



















r . 

aX 

<p 


lX o-" (J\^> - % " '*<. /'V * 7 , V r ^vT!| • ^7 

v, ° ^ ^ 

^ - W %J * o>' <%> o “ c$<^ ' 

\> <?■ • yf^ * v v, *, vJ5?j . ,\k * ^v? * 

% / '“ s ^ ,* 1 * ♦ °* v \y^ 0 

AX T' # ^ * .. * a-' ^ 

,; w ;%:, 

'■>= ^ ^ I 

• • ' * V * ,To ’*/ * • • , V "•■■’*' 0 *‘ 

* A\ $$r /k „ ->u. <i - * 

7 ■ /A ° c> 


' ■^ t r ° & r 
■ S 4 rN t 7 = a -n*. *- c • 

>^v a v % *,*A~ v - 

* ■' 5,0 7 , , 0 » i , >* j 

A a 4 Va % •%• a *' 

* «* - mwfo. * ^ ** ° 

■-'■^ - :i ' * r « 

> , CV* * 

' 

c * 
© 

>• 


1 8 * 


V" 



^ * o 

r o N 0 V^ 

V ^ r 

v- <o c~^ 


< 0 Ty * * 

o 4 ^ 

^.' A* .0 

, 1 6 ' 0 V 

, -* ^ % ^ 

: ^ «^ x . Aa.jA = ^ ^ » mM 7 ^ ^ 

' v 'V * w - a?\ : . 4 ? 

A o x c r^v'X 

r 0 o c 0 ^ **"**,% ** ,<■ 

^ V ’ C^W''- ' ^ J 

o 0 X 

. ' > 3 ^ ^ ^ 

c °// " , to '■ /■ •% ^ ;r . 'V 

o, V %'•■<>, > ' 0> s s»0, 

^ %p <\V * jA V.' Ai A e& * .i 

3 U 7 •* 

^ X ^ . 

a v i^: - °o c.° 


i'OO. 







& 


vV 






* r\ 




/'V : ,> *».»• ' v ^ % , > w *%'»-- v v -■«♦• 

4 * - ■* .m*- ^ ^ % # V 



ft «*' , V • 


5>. °. V > 



y 0 , X ■* A 0 

% ^ c 0 ' c : ;;- ♦, 

?\ y ° N r ** 

^ ^ 

* A V c*v 




<P\ ^ " fer "S3 

✓ ‘Tiy/ MPS» . r> t> *5 r*> -4 a 

<\ */ A o, /,, .6 cr 

^ * ,/ v* l,, %% ,0? >.*'''•., ^ 

W 

*> 




V’ V 

- ^ g ti ♦ * “A r \ 

?’ 'j$M/)>'. % J* “ 

05 CH ' -' '■ - ^ 







^ * V 

, ^ ^ \ V 

*<- ' * * N S \ . , , ^ y 0 * V 

Va. a^v^-A a - 0, 

^ * o ^ . 4 k u/A&Z^- . .v c 

-* ^ /A » o /Y 




- v> ^ • 

•* a x ' 

" 4 0 K C 

v , 0 K <• * 



•'> v ’ ,, '/'^:* ,:v ’v' # 

5 „ r i\ A^ a A$ " . r 


V* .0^’ * 

tP <( V ^ 


</> \ 

.s*^s ' 


■V «* *„ 






V V 1 


’ T v< > • V V* -*V\ 

*"£®* • •*. A - A,V ’.%* A. A * I 


A/* ,\ 


^ .A 
✓ 


cl A 

A 'S' 


4 flV ■ y 

y ** i 

N. -y 1 ft ft 


*>\ 

^ y ° * v * o N u A ^ 

°o 0° / ^ 

^ -• "b- o x T 0 



y = a^ ^ " 




;M/A ° o 

° ^>’ '^- t 

\VV :ii*,%'' “ ’ ' V^' 0 N 

^ ^ :;■ ■: - <*b o' 


<^ V % % . „ . 

• ' '/ > ’ - ♦ rv • • ' • • ' 

,/. ,(_x' - x' ;'M,//k = A <l% 

*‘ ^ %P. . 


^ 0O x. 




j ^ ^ . <m&//A ° ^ <?> 

-~i aV 

*• A *>* •-> 

' ‘ * * a\ « i i « » -r- 0 * k 

- y? ■■v' *' - °- 

; v % .' 

: * 


* . <p 


a::,*'V v';a* / % >>t,>\# 

A , s o V f t *°/ > o> s s”/ 



A. ^ 


•» v3 ^ 

>- ■’oo' 

^ ° a ■'i- 

•" \r o- 

I * ^ 

^ ° N ° V 

*r C‘ V V ^ 0 a 

'py. V *■ J 3 

* * 



/ \ “■ V^f : A ^ . « 

/.i * 1 V '**' :X . ' v * X' o *‘V°v-, S; ' ■ « ' ' 





-f O 

'» ^ o' 

^5 A- * 

' * /\ - ; ;%' ' - “ ’*/! < . . >/ * ' • ’ *>° . • . V 



^ A 
^ A J 


C? 

V /* 7 > 

z A* S 
* ■ ^ w 


\r> <\ 

x.P iCV 






‘ > b o x 


^ \ v ry V , . ,r x, ✓* v \ ^v . o' » 

ft O » ^ i ^Ct/y . X O <-> y ft O , L 

^ Y * 0 *b »..^ / S-, ♦amo’ / ^ ^ ^ 

V ^ x 0 /“. > J.0 r x s l^ / ^ cv V «- Y * 0 A 


T G 5 < v . . xT> -JK'ffl/yiJSfci- ' A* . 

^ ^ J &<\%&y/A c ^ ^ ° 

/ 


a 

o ^ 


C A 

• v 


> ^ o I 


s * * > 1 N 0 ^ X 

s YW -V C k V - 0 

■“* a' 


■ A "<A '., VJMV • ,5 ^ 


Vf> ■» V- 


,v 




/•VJ C 
C> t • _C^ 

° o x : ^ 
A *+ - ^ 


V ' 0 , V •• 0 « 0 <1 

C> ,f\ V ^ 

1 O f, 0 ^ *P 

-ft . * ^ 

,J c o' ° * 





/- 


^ c\ 
x 0 * 


,o\s^; > o 
0 s ^ 


V * o 


: \ ^ /^A 


,O v s 
^ ^ * 


l A -U 

' P *. A 




O 








VI #, 


- T> ’'A t> -4 VL y 

<D / „ . 6 , A y / , , s 

-7* o * V * ft s 


A 


A 


■ i * 




























AA X 
jiPt4 
X V 

com 

6,N O 
& T tS 
Cl 0 

it e 

G ft 

& t 

A 












* 






i 




















• 



V 





©C1KJ.G9689 G 


/ 


ALICE’S 

ADVENTURES 

IN 

WON DERL AND 

BY 

LEWIS CARROLL 

CWkv *. 

ILLUSTRATED BY 
OWYNEDD HUDSON 


DODD. MEAD (gL COMPANY 
NEW YORK. 







ILLUSTRATIONS COPYRIGHT, 1922 , 
BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, Inc . 


PBINTID IN XJ. 8. A, 



NOV 21 ’22 


All in the golden afternoon 
Full leisurely we glide; 

For both our oars, with little skill, 

By little arms are plied. 

While little hands make vain pretence 
Our wanderings to guide . 


Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour, 
Beneath such dreamy weather, 

To beg a tale of breath too weak 
To stir the tiniest feather! 

Yet what can one poor voice avail 
Against three tongues together? 

Imperious Prima flashes forth 
Her edict “to begin it ” — 

In gentler tone Secunda hopes 
“There will be nonsense in it !” — 
While Tertia interrupts the tale 
Not MORE than once a minute . 


Anon , to sudden silence won, 

In fancy they pursue 

The dream-child moving through a land 
Of wonders wild and new, 

In friendly chat with bird or beast — 

And half believe it true. 

And ever, as the story drained 
The wells of fancy dry, 

And faintly strove that weary one 
To put the subject by, 

“The rest next time — " “It IS next timer 
The happy voices cry. 


Thus grew the tale of wonderland: 

Thus slowly, one by one, 

Its quaint events were hammered out — 

And now the tale is done, 

And home we steer, a merry crew, 

Beneath the setting sun. 

Alice! a childish story take, 

And with a gentle hand 
Lay it where Childhood’ s dreams are twined 
In Memory’s mystic band, 

Like pilgrim’s withered wreath of flowers 
Pluck’d in a far-off land . 


Conte rtteC# 


cHtmen 

png # 

i. 

Down the Rabbit-hole - 

I 

ii. 

The Pool of Tears 


hi. 

A Caucus-race and a Long Tale - 

- 29 

IV. 

The Rabbit sends in a Little Bill - 

- 4i 

V. 

Advice from a Caterpillar 

- 57 

VI. 

Pig and Pepper 

- 73 

VII. 

A Mad Tea-Party - 

- 91 

VIII. 

The Queen’s Croquet-Ground - 

- 107 

IX. 

The Mock Turtle’s Story 

- 123 

X. 

The Lobster Quadrille* - 

- 139 

XI. 

Who Stole the Tarts? - - - 

- 155 

XII. 

Alice’s Evidence 

- 169 































;■ 
































































































. 









































































* 

























































Alice and Dinah 


The White Rabbit splendidly Dressed, came trotting along in 
a Great Hurry 

The poor little Lizard, Bill, was in the middle being held up 
by two Guinea Pigs, who were giving it something out of 

A BOTTLE ________ 

Advice from a Caterpillar 

The Cook at once set to work throwing every thing within 

HER REACH AT THE DUCHESS AND THE BABY 

The March Hare and the Hatter were having tea - 

The roses were white, but there were three Gardeners busily 

PAINTING THEM RED 

There was a dispute going on, between the Executioner, the 

I^ING, AND THE QUEEN, WHO WERE ALL TALKING AT ONCE - 

Alice did not much like the Duchess so close to her - 

So THEY BEGAN SOLEMNLY DANCING ROUND AND ROUND ALICE, EVERY 
NOW AND THEN TREADING ON HER TOES ! - 


16 

50 

62 

78 

94 

no 

118 

126 

142 




The whole pack rose up into the air and came fly- 
ing DOWN UPON HER 


The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on 

THEIR THRONE 


158 


178 


// 





OOtClN TH6 WIT 
HO 16 



CHJVpTfiH I .30 

ILICE 

was beginning to get very tired of sit- 
ting by her sister on the bank, and of having not hin g 
to do : once or twice she had peeped into the book her 
sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations 
in it, “and what is the use of a book,” thought Alice, 
“Without pictures or conversations?” 

So she was considering, in her own- mind (as well as 
she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and 
stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain 
would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking 
the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink 
eyes ran close by her. 

There was nothing so very remarkable in that ; nor did 
Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the 
Rabbit say to itself, “Oh dear ! Oh dear ! I shall be too 
late!” (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred 
[i] 


Down the Rabbit-hole. 


to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the 
time it all seemed quite natural) ; but, when the Rabbit 
actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket , and 
looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her 
feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never 
before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a 
watch to take out of it, and, burning with curiosity, she 
ran across the field after it, and was just in time to see it 
pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge. 

In another moment down went Alice after it, never 
once considering how in the world she was to get out 
again. 

The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for 
some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly 
that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping her- 
self before she found herself falling down what seemed 
to be a very deep well. 

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, 
for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about 
her, and to wonder what was going to happen next. 


Down the Rabbit-hole. 


First, she tried to look down and make out what she was 
coming to, but it was too dark to see anything : then she 
looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were 
filled with cupboards and book-shelves : here and there 
she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took 
down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed: it was 
labeled “ORANGE MARMALADE,” but to her 
great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to 
drop the jar, for fear of killing somebody underneath, 
so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she 
fell past it. 

“Well !” thought Alice to herself. “After such a fall 
as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling down-stairs ! 
How brave they’ll all think me at home! Why, I 
wouldn’t say anything about it, even if I fell off the top 
of the house!” (Which was very likely true.) 

Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to 
an end? “I wonder how many miles I’ve fallen by this 
time?” she said aloud. “I must be getting somewhere 
near the center of the earth. Let me see : that would be 
[ 3 ] 


Down the Rabbit-hole. 

four thousand miles down, I think — ” (for, you see, 
Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons 
in the schoolroom, and though this was not a very good 
opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there'was 
no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say 
it over) “• — yes, that’s about the right distance — but then 
I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I’ve got to?” 
(Alice had not the slightest idea what Latitude was, oi; 
Longitude either, but she thought they were nice grand 
words to say.) 

Presently she began again. “I wonder if I shall fall 
right through the earth ! How funny it’ll seem to come 
out among the people that walk with their heads down- 
wards! The antipathies, I think—” (she was rather 
glad there was no one listening, this time, as it didn’t 
sound at all the right word,) “—but I shall have to ask 
them what the name of the country is, you know. 
Please, Ma’am, is this New Zealand? Or Australia?” 
(and she tried to curtsey as she spoke— fancy, curtseying 
as you’re falling through the air! Do you think you 
[ 4 ] 


Down the Rabbit-hole. 


could manage it?) “And what an ignorant little girl 
shell think me for asking! No, it’ll never do to ask: 
perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.” 

Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do. 
so Alice began talking again. “Dinah ’ll miss me very 
much to-night, I should think!” (Dinah was the cat.) “I 
hope they’ll remember her saucer of milk at tea-time. 
Dinah, my dear ! I wish you were down here with me ! 
There are no mice in the air, I’m afraid, but you might 
catch a bat, and that’s very like a mouse, you know. But 
do cats eat bats, I wonder?” And here Alice began to 
get rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a 
dreamy sort of way, “Do cats eat bats? Do cats eat 
bats?” and sometimes “Do bats eat cats?” for, you see, 
as she couldn’t answer either question, it didn’t much 
matter which way she put it. She felt that she was 
dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she was 
walking hand in hand with Dinah, and was saying to 
her, very earnestly, “Now, Dinah, tell me the truth: did 
you ever eat a bat?” when suddenly, thump! thump! 
[ 5 ] 


Down the Rabbit-hole. 


down she came upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves, 
and the fall was over. 

Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to 
her feet in a moment : she looked up, but it was all dark 
overhead : before her was another long passage, and the 
White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it. 
[There was not a moment to be lost: away went Alice 
like the wind, and was just in time to hear it say, as it 
turned a corner, “Oh my ears and whiskers, how late 
it’s getting!” She was close behind it when she turned 
the corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen: she 
found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by 
a row of lamps hanging from the roof. 

There were doors all around the hall, but they were 
locked ; and when Alice had been all the way down one 
side and up the other, trying every door, she walked 
sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever 
to get out again. 

Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, 
all made of solid glass: there was nothing on it but a 
[ 6 ] 


Down the Rabbit-hole. 


tiny golden key, and Alice’s first idea was that this might 
belong to one of the doors of the hall; but, alas! either 
the locks were too large, or the key was too small, but 
at any rate it would not open any of them. However, 
on the second time around, she came upon a low curtain 
she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little 
door about fifteen inches high: she tried the little 
golden key in the lock, and to her great delight it 
fitted ! 

Alice opened the door and found that it led into a 
small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole : she knelt 
down and looked along the passage into the loveliest 
garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that 
dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright 
flowers and those cool fountains, but she could not even 
get her head through the doorway; “and even if my 
head would go through,” thought poor Alice, “it would 
be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how 
I wish I could shut up like a telescope ! I think I could, 
if I only knew how to begin.” For, you see, so many 

[ 7 ] 


Down the Rabbit-hole. 


out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Alice 
had begun to think that very few things indeed were 
really impossible. 

There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little 
door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she 
might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of 
rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time 
she found a little bottle on it (“which certainly was not 
here before,” said Alice), and tied round the neck of the 
bottle was a paper label, with the words “DRINK ME” 
beautifuly printed on it in large letters. 

It was all very well to say “Drink me.” but the wise 
little Alice was not going to do that in a hurry. “No, 
I’ll look first,” she said, “and see whether it’s marked 
‘poison or not”; for she had read several nice little stor- 
ies about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by 
wild beasts, and other unpleasant things, all because 
they would not remember the simple rules their friends 
had taught them: such as, that a red-hot poker will burn 
you if you hold it too long; and that, if you cut your 
[ 8 ] 


Down the Rabbit-hole. 


finger very deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds ; and she 
had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a 
bottle marked “poison,” it is almost certain to disagree 
with you, sooner or later. 

However, this bottle was not marked “poison,” so 
Alice ventured to taste it, and, finding it very nice (it 
had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavor of cherry-tart, custard, 
pine-apple, roast turkey, toffy, and hot buttered toast), 
she soon finished it off. 

“What a curious feeling!” said Alice. “I must be 
shutting up like a telescope!” 

And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches 
high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she 
was now the right size for going through the little door 
into that lovely garden. First, however, she waited for 
a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any fur- 
ther: she felt a little nervous about this; “for it might 
end, you know,” said Alice to herself, “in my going out 
altogether, like a candle. I wonder what I should be 
[ 9 ] 


Down the Rabbit-hole. 


like then?” And she tried to fancy what the flame of 
a candle looks like after the candle is blown out, for she 
could not remember ever having seen such a thing. 

After a while, finding that nothing more happened, 
she decided on going into the garden at once ; but, alas 
for poor Alice ! when she got to the door, she found she 
had forgotten the little golden key, and when she went 
back to the table for it, she found she could not possibly 
reach it; she could see it quite plainly through the glass, 
and she tried her best to climb up one of the legs of the 
table, but it was too slippery, and when she had tired her- 
self out with trying, the poor little thing sat down and 
cried. 

“Come, there’s no use in crying like that!” said Alice 
to herself rather sharply. “I advise you to leave off this 
minute!” She generally gave herself very good advice 
(though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes 
she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her 
eyes; and once she remembered trying to box her own 
[ 10 ] 


Down the Rabbit-hole. 


ears for having cheated herself in a game of croquet 
she was playing against herself, for this curious child 
was very fond of pretending to be two people. “But 
it s no use now,” thought poor Alice, “to pretend to be 
two people! Why, there’s hardly enough of me left to 
make one respectable person !” 

Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying 
under the table: she opened it, and found in it a very 
small cake, on which the words “EAT ME” were 
beautifully marked in currants. “Well, I’ll eat it,” 
said Alice, “and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach 
the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep 
under the door: so either way I’ll get into the garden, 
and I don’t care which happens !” 

She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself, 
“Which way? Which way?” holding her hand on 
the top of her head to feel which way it was growing; 
and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the 
same size. To be sure, this is what generally happens 
[ii] 


Down the Rabbit-hole. 


when one eats cake, but Alice had got so much in the 
way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to 
happen, that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to 
go on in the same common way. 

So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake. 


[ 12 ] 


«»«• 




i. -i warn mmm warn « i ■ 


TH6 IpOOt Of TOAR3 ^ 

&MXPT6KTI. 

ZmiOSBH and 

curiouser!” cried Alice 
(she was so much sur- 
prised, that for the 
moment she quite for- 
got to speak good Eng- 
ish). “Now I’m open- 
ing out like the largest 
telescope that ever was ! 
Good-by feet!” (for when she looked down at her feet, 
they seemed to be almost out of sight, they were getting 
so far off). “Oh, my poor little feet, I wonder who will 
put on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears? 
I’m sure I shan’t be able ! I shall be a great deal too far 
off to trouble myself about you : you must manage the 
best way you can — but I must be kind to them,” thought 
Alice, “or perhaps they won’t walk the way I want to go ! 
Let me see. I’ll give them a new pair of boots every 
Christmas.” 



[ 15 ] 



g- ■ ■ ■ !'■■■■■■■■ ■ 

T he Pool of T ears. 

And she went on planning to herself how she would 
manage it. “They must go by the carrier,” she 
thought; and how funny it’ll seem, sending presents 
to one’s own feet! And how odd the directions will 
look! 

Alice’s Right Foot, Esq. 

Hearthrug, 

near the Fender, 

{with Alice’s love). 

Oh, dear what nonsense I’m talking!” 

Just at this moment her head struck against the roof 
of the hall : in fact she was now rather more than nine 
feet high, and she at once took up the little golden key 
and hurried off to the garden door. 

Poor Alice! It was as much as she could do, lying 
down on one side, to look through into the garden with 
one eye ; but to get through was more hopeless than ever : 
she sat down and began to cry again. 

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” said Alice, 

“a great girl like you” (she might well say this), “to 
go on crying in this way! Stop this moment, I tell 

[16] 




C1K169690 

























■< 














5 

































* 




























» ' 









































































I 











. 





































1 


T he Pool of T ears. 

you !” But she went on all the same, shedding gallons 
of tears, until there was a large pool all around her, about 
four inches deep, and reaching half down the hall. 

After a time she heard a little pattering of feet in the 
distance, and she hastily dried her eyes to see what was 
coming. It was the White Rabbit returning, splendidly 
dressed, with a pair of white kid-gloves in one hand 
and a large fan in the other: he came trotting along in 
a great hurry, muttering to himself, as he came, “Oh! 
The Duchess, the Duchess! Oh! Wont she be sav- 
age if I’ve kept her waiting!” Alice felt so desperate 
that she was ready to ask help of any one : so, when the 
Rabbit came near her, she began, in a low, timid voice, 
“If you please, Sir — ” The Rabbit started violently, 
dropped the white kid-gloves and the fan, and skurried 
away into the darkness as hard as he could go. 

Alice took up the fan and gloves, and, as the hall was 
very hot, she kept fanning herself all the time she went 
on talking. “Dear, dear! How queer everything is 
to-day! And yesterday things went on just as usual. 

[ 17 ] 


The Pool of Tears. 

I wonder if I’ve been changed in the night? Let me 
think: was I the same when I got up this morning? I 
almost think I can remember feeling a little different. 
But if I’m not the same, the next question is ‘Who in the 
world am I?’ Ah, that’s the great puzzle!” And she 
began thinking over all the children she knew that were 
of the same age as herself, to see if she could have been 
changed for any of them. 

I m sure I m not Ada,” she said for her hair goes 
in such long ringlets, and mine doesn’t go in ringlets 
at all ; and I’m sure I can’t be Mabel, for I know all sorts 
of things, and she, oh, she knows such a very little ! Be- 
sides, she s she, and I’m I, and — oh dear, how puzzling 
it all is ! 1 11 try if I know all the things I used to know. 

Let me see: four times five is twelve, and four times 
six is thirteen, and four times seven is— oh dear ! I shall 
never get to twenty at that rate! However, the Multi- 
plication-Table doesn’t signify: let’s try Geography. 
London is the capital of Paris, and Paris is the capital 
of Rome, and Rome — no, that’s all wrong, I’m certain! 

[18] 


The Pool of Tears. 


I must have been changed for Mabel! I’ll try and say 
How doth the little — and she crossed her hands on 
her lap, as if she were saying lessons, and began to re- 
peat it, but her voice sounded hoarse and strange, and 
the words did not come the same as they used to do: — 

“How doth the little crocodile 
Improve his shining tail, 

And pour the waters of the Nile 
On every golden scale! 

“How cheerfully he seems to grin, 

How neatly spreads his claws, 

And welcomes little fishes in, 

With gently smiling jaws!” 

“I’m sure those are not the right words,” said poor 
Alice, and her eyes filled with tears again as she went 
on, “I must be Mabel after all, and I shall have to go 
and live in that poky little house, and have next to no 
toys to play with, and oh, ever so many lessons to learn ! 
No, I’ve made up my mind about it: if I’m Mabel, I’ll 
[ 19 ] 


i* mi mi ift-Ai mm mi i»mi 


The Pool of Tears. 

stay down here ! It’ll be no use their putting their heads 
down and saying, ‘Come up again, dear !’ I shall only 
look up and say, ‘Who am I, then? Tell me that first, 
and then, if I like being that person, I’ll come up: if 
not, I’ll stay down here till I’m somebody else,’ — but, 
oh dear!” cried Alice, with a sudden burst of tears, “I 
do wish they would put their heads down ! I am so very 
tired of being all alone here !” 

As she said this she looked down at her hands, and 
was surprised to see that she had put on one of the Rab- 
bit’s little white kid-gloves while she was talking. 
“How can I have done that?” she thought. “I must 
be growing small again.” She got up and went to the 
table to measure herself by it, and found that, as nearly 
as she could guess, she was now about two feet high, 
and was going on shrinking rapidly: she soon found 
out that the cause of this was the fan she was hold- 
ing, and she dropped it hastily, just in time to save her- 
self from shrinking away altogether. 

“That was a narrow escape !” said Alice, a good deal 

[ 20 ] 



The Pool of Tears. 

frightened at the sudden change, but very glad to find 
herself still in existence. “And now for the garden !” 
And she ran with all speed back to the little door ; but, 
alas ! the little door was shut again, and the little golden 
key was lying on the glass table as before, “and things 
are worse than ever,” thought the poor child, “for I 
never was so small as this before, never ! And I declare 
it’s too bad, that it is !” 

As she said these words her foot slipped, and in an- 
other moment, splash! she was up to her chin in salt- 
water. Her first idea was that she had somehow fallen 
into the sea, “and in that case I can go back by railway,” 
she said to herself. (Alice had been to the seaside once 
in her life, and had come to the general conclusion that, 
wherever you go to on the English coast, you find a num- 
ber of bathing-machines in the sea, some children dig- 
ging in the sand with wooden spades, then a row of lodg- 
ing houses, and behind them a railway station.) How- 
ever, she soon made out that she was in the pool of tears 
which she had wept when she was nine feet high. 

[ 21 ] 


>■■« »■■! 


I»«l ■ ml hil In «1 tel UM 


T he Pool of T ears. 

“I wish I hadn’t cried so much!” said Alice, as she 
swam about, trying to find her way out. “I shall be 
punished for it now, I suppose, by being drowned in 
my own tears ! That will be a queer thing, to be sure ! 
However, everything is queer to-day.” 

Just then she heard something splashing about in the 
pool a little way off, and she swam nearer to make out 
what it was: at first she thought it must be a walrus or 
hippopotamus, but then she remembered how small she 
was now, and she soon made out that it was only a mouse, 
that had slipped in like herself. 

“Would it be of any use, now,” thought Alice, “to 
speak to this mouse? Everything is so out-of-the-way 
down here, that I should think very likely it can talk: 
at any rate, there’s no harm in trying.” So she began: 
“O Mouse, do you know the way out of this pool? I am 
very tired of swimming about here, O Mouse !” (Alice 
thought this must be the right way of speaking to a 
mouse: she had never done such a thing before, but she 
remembered having seen, in her brother’s Latin Gram- 
[ 22 ] 




The Pool of Tears. 

mar, ‘ A mouse — of a mouse — to a mouse — a mouse — O 
mouse ! The mouse looked at her rather inquisitively, 
and seemed to her to wink with one of its little eyes, but 
it said nothing. 

“Perhaps it doesn’t understand English,” thought 
Alice. “I daresay it’s a French mouse, come over with 
William the Conqueror.” (For, with all her knowl- 
edge of history, Alice had no very clear notion how long 
.ago anything had happened.) So she began again: 
“Ou est ma chatte?,” which was the first sentence in 
her French lesson-book, The Mouse gave a sudden 
leap out of the water, and seemed to quiver all over with 
fright. “Oh, I beg your pardon !” cried Alice hastily, 
afraid that she had hurt the poor animal’s feelings. “I 
quite forgot you didn’t like cats.” 

“Not like cats !” cried the Mouse in a shrill, passion- 
ate voice. “Would you like cats, if you were me?” 

“Well, perhaps not,” said Alice in a soothing tone: 
“don’t be angry about it. And yet I wish I could show 
you our cat Dinah. I think you’d take a fancy to cats, 

[23] 


■ hil !■ .1 i.ml Ini 


T he Pool of T ears. 

if you could only see her. She is such a dear quiet 
thing,” Alice went on, half to herself, as she swam lazily 
about in the pool, “and she sits purring so nicely by the 
fire, licking her paws and washing her face — and she 
is such a nice soft thing to nurse — and she’s such a cap- 
ital one for catching mice — oh, I beg your pardon!” 
cried Alice again, for this time the Mouse was bristling 
all over, and she felt certain it must be really offended. 
“We won’t talk about her any more, if you’d rather 
not.” 

“We, indeed!” cried the Mouse, who was trembling 
down to the end of its tail. “As if I would talk on such 
a subject! Our family always hated cats: nasty, low, 
vulgar things. Don’t let me hear the name again!” 

“I won’t indeed!” said Alice, in a great hurry to 
change the subject of the conversation. “Are you — 
are you fond — of — of dogs?” The Mouse did not an- 
swer, so Alice went on eagerly : “There is such a nice 
little dog, near our house, I should like to show you ! 

[24] 



The P ool of T ears . 


A little bright-eyed terrier, you know, with oh, such 
long curly brown hair! And it’ll fetch things when 
you throw them, and it’ll sit up and beg for its dinner, 
and all sorts of things — I can’t remember half of them 
—and it belongs to a farmer, you know, and he says 
it’s so useful, it’s worth a hundred pounds! He says 
it kills all the rats and — oh dear !” cried Alice in a 
sorrowful tone. “I’m afraid I’ve offended it again!” 
For the Mouse was swimming away from her as hard 
as it could go, and making quite a commotion in the 
pool as it went. 

So she called softly after it, “Mouse dear ! Do come 
back again, and we won’t talk about cats, or dogs either, 
if you don’t like them!” When the Mouse heard this, 
it turned round and swam slowly back to her: its face 
was quite pale (with passion, Alice thought), and it 
said, in a low trembling voice, “Let us get to the shore, 
and then I’ll tell you my history, and you’ll understand 
why it is I hate cats and dogs.” 




laal lail laal la il M il laal 


T he Pool of T ears. 

It was high time to go, for the pool was getting quite 
crowded with the birds and animals that had fallen into 
it : there was a Duck and a Dodo, a Lory and an Eaglet, 
and several other curious creatures. Alice led the way, 
and the whole party swam to the shore. 


[26] 








A ^ACUXU) 

MTV a icn?qr 


cptApr&n, in . 

t'16>Y were indeed a queer-looking party 
that assembled on the bank — the birds 
with draggled feathers, the animals with 
their fur clinging close to them, and all 
dripping wet, cross, and uncomfortable. 

The first question of course was, how to get dry 
again: they had a consultation about this, and after a 
few minutes it seemed quite natural to Alice to find her- 
self talking familiarly with them, as if she had known 
them all her life. Indeed, she had quite a long argu- 
ment with the Lory, who at last turned sulky, and would 
only say, “I’m older than you, and must know Jitter.’ 

And this Alice would not 



A Caucus-race and a Long Tale. 


positively refused to tell its age, there was no more to 
be said. 

At last the Mouse, who seemed to be a person of some 
authority among them, called out, “Sit down, all of you, 
and listen to me! I’ll soon make you dry enough!” 
They all sat down at once, in a large ring, with the 
Mouse in the middle. Alice kept her eyes anxiously 
fixed on it, for she felt sure she would catch a bad cold 
if she did not get dry very soon. 

Ahem!” said the Mouse with an important air. 

Are you all ready? This is the driest thing I know. 
Silence all round, if you please! ‘William the Con- 
queror, whose cause was favored by the pope, was soon 
submitted to by the English, who wanted leaders, and 
had been of late much accustomed to usurpation and con- 
quest. Edwin and Morcar, the earls of Mercia and 
Northumbria — \” 

“Ugh !” said the Lory, with a shiver. 

“I beg your pardon!” said the Mouse, frowning, but 
very politely. “Did you speak?” 

[ 30 ] 



“Not I !” said the Lory, hastily. 

“I thought you did,” said the Mouse. “I proceed. 
‘Edwin and Morcar, the earls of Mercia and North- 
umbria, declared for him; and even Stigand, the patri- 
otic archbishop of Canterbury, found it advisable — ’ ” 

“Found what?” said the Duck. 

“Found it,” the Mouse replied rather crossly: “of 
course you know what ‘it’ means.” 

“I know what ‘it’ means well enough, when I find a 
thing,” said the Duck: “it’s generally a frog, or a worm. 
The question is, what did the archbishop find?” 

The Mouse did not notice this question, but hurriedly 
went on, “ ‘ — found it advisable to go with Edgar Athel- 
ing to meet William and offer him the crown. Will- 
iam’s conduct at first was moderate. But the insolence 
of his Normans — ’ How are you getting on now, my 
dear?” it continued, turning to Alice as it spoke. 

“As wet as ever,” replied Alice in the most melancholy 
tone : “it doesn’t seem to dry me at all.” 

“In that case,” said the Dodo solemnly, rising to its 

[3i] 



A Caucus-race and a Long Tale. ( 

feet, “I move that the meeting adjourn for the immedi- 
ate adoption of more energetic remedies — ” 

“Speak English!” said the Eaglet. “I don’t know 
the meaning of half those long words, and, what’s more, 
I don’t believe you do either!” And the Eaglet bent 
down its head to hide a smile: some of the other birds 
tittered audibly. 

“What I was going to say,” said the Dodo in an of- 
fended tone, “was, that the best thing to get us dry would 
be a Caucus-race.” 

“What is a Caucus-race?” said Alice; not that she 
much wanted to know, but the Dodo had paused as if 
it thought that somebody ought to speak, and no one 
else seemed inclined to say anything. 

“Why,” said the Dodo, “the best way to explain it is 
to do it.” (And, as you might like to try the thing your- 
self, some winter-day, I will tell you how the Dodo 
managed it.) 

First it marked out a race-course, in a sort of circle 
(“the exact shape doesn’t matter,” it said), and then all 
[ 32 ] 



the party were placed along the course, here and there. 

There was no “one, two, three, and away!”, but they 
began running when they liked, and left off when they 
liked, so that it was not easy to know when the race was 
over. However, when they had been running half an 
hour or so, and were quite dry again, the Dodo suddenly 
called out, “The race is over!”, and they all crowded 
round it, panting, and asking “But who won?” 

This question the Dodo could not answer without a 
great deal of thought, and it stood for a long time with 
one finger pressed upon its forehead (the position in 
which you usually see Shakespeare, in the pictures of 
him), while the rest waited in silence. At last the Dodo 
said “Everybody has won, and all must have prizes.” 

“But who is to give the prizes?” quite a chorus of 
voices asked. 

“Why, she, of course,” said the Dodo, pointing to 
Alice with one finger; and the whole party at once 
crowded round her, calling out, in a confused way, 
“Prizes! Prizes!” 


[ 33 ] 



A Caucus-race and a Long Tale. ( 


Alice had no idea what to do, and in despair she put 
her hand in her pocket, and pulled out a box of comfits 
(luckily the salt water had not got into it), and handed 
them round as prizes. There was exactly one a-piece, 
all round. 

But she must have a prize herself, you know,” said 
the Mouse. 

Of course,” the Dodo replied very gravely. “What 
else have you got in your pocket?” it went on, turning 
to Alice. 

Only a thimble,” said Alice sadly. 

“Hand it over here,” said the Dodo. 

Then they all crowded round her once more, while 
the Dodo solemnly presented the thimble, saying, “We 
beg your acceptance of this elegant thimble”; and, when 
it had finished this short speech, they all cheered. 

Alice thought the whole thing very absurd, but they 
all looked so grave that she did not dare to laugh; and, as 
she could not think of anything to say, she simply 
[ 34 ] 



A Caucus-race and a Long Tale. 


bowed, and took the thimble, looking as solemn as she 
could. 

The next thing was to eat the comfits : this caused some 
noise and confusion, as the large birds complained 
that they could not eat theirs, and the small ones choked 
and had to be patted on the back. However, it was 
over at last, and they sat down again in a ring, and 
begged the Mouse to tell them something more. 

“You promised to tell me your history, you know,” 
said Alice, “and why it is you hate — C and D,” she 
added in a whisper, half afraid that it would be offended 
again. 

“Mine is a long and sad tale!” said the Mouse, turn- 
ing to Alice, and sighing. 

“It is a long tail, certainly,” said Alice, looking down 
with wonder at the Mouse’s tail ; “but why do you call 
it sad?” And she kept on puzzling about it while the 
Mouse was speaking, so that her idea of the tale was 
something like this: — 


[ 35 ] 



A Caucus-race and a Long Tale. 

“Fury said to 
a mouse, That 
he met in the 

house, ‘Let 


us both go 

to law : / 


will prose- 


cute you. — 
Come, I’ll 
take no de- 
nial. We 


must have 
the trial; 

For really 
this morn- 
ing I’ve 
nothing 
to do. 

Said the 
mouse to 
the cur, 

Such a 
trial, dear 
sir. With 
no jury 
or judge, 
would 
be wast- 
ing our 
breath. 

‘I'll be 
judge, 

I’ll be 
jury.’ 
said 
cun- 
ning 
old 
Fury. 

“I’ll 
t r y 
the 
whole 
cause, 
and 
con- 
demn 
you to 
death.” 


[ 36 ] 



“You are not attending!” said the Mouse to Alice, 
severely. “What are you thinking of?” 

“I beg your pardon,” said Alice very humbly: “you 
had got to the fifth bend, I think?” 

“I had not!” cried the Mouse, sharply and very an- 
grily. 

“A knot!” said Alice, always ready to make herself 
useful, and looking anxiously about her, “Oh, do let 
me help to undo it!” 

“I shall do nothing of the sort,” said the Mouse, get- 
ting up and walking away. “You insult me by talk- 
ing such nonsense !” 

“I didn’t mean it!” pleaded poor Alice. “But you’re 
so easily offended, you know!” 

The Mouse only growled in reply. 

“Please come back, and finish your story!” Alice 
called after it. And the others all joined in chorus 
“Yes, please do!” But the Mouse only shook its head 
impatiently, and walked a little quicker. 

“What a pity it wouldn’t stay!” sighed the Lory, as 
[ 37 ] 



A Caucus-race and a Long Tale. 


soon as it was quite out of sight. And an old Crab took 
the opportunity of saying to her daughter, “Ah, my 
dear! Let this be a lesson to you never to lose your 
temper!” “Hold your tongue, Ma!” said the young 
Crab, a little snappishly. “You’re enough to try the 
patience of an oyster!” 

‘I wish I had our Dinah here, I know I do!” said 
Alice aloud, addressing nobody in particular. “Shed 
soon fetch it back!” 

“And who is Dinah, if I might Venture to ask the 
question?” said the Lory. 

Alice replied eagerly, for she was always ready to 
talk about her pet: “Dinah’s our cat. And she’s 
such a capital one for catching mice, you can’t think! 
And oh, I wish you could see her after the birds ! Why, 
she’ll eat a little bird as soon as look at it!” 

This speech caused a remarkable sensation among the 
party. Some of the birds hurried off at once: one old 
Magpie began wrapping itself up very carefully, re- 
marking, “I really must be getting home: the night-air 
[ 38 ] 



A Caucus-race and a Long Tale. 


doesn’t suit my throat!” And a Canary called out in 
a trembling voice, to its children, “Come away, my 
dears ! It’s high time you were all in bed ! On various 
pretexts they all moved off, and Alice was soon left 
alone. 

“I wish I hadn’t mentioned Dinah!” she said to her- 
self in a melancholy tone. “Nobody seems to like her, 
down here, and I’m sure she’s the best cat in the world! 
Oh, my dear Dinah! I wonder if I shall ever see you 
any more!” And here poor Alice began to cry again, 
for she felt very lonely and low-spirited. In a little 
while, however, she again heard a little pattering of 
footsteps in the distance, and she looked up eagerly, 
half hoping that the Mouse had changed his mind, and 
was coming back to finish his story. 


[ 39 ] 





TH6 nA&eaT 6&NV&’ IN FT* 

chapts*uv. in tie ertl. ?/ 

XUAS" the White Rabbit, trotting slowly 
back again, and looking anxiously about as 
it went, as if it had lost something; and she 
heard it muttering to itself, “The Duchess ! 

The Duchess! Oh my dear paws! Oh my fur and 
whiskers ! She’ll get me executed, as sure as ferrets are 
ferrets ! Where can I have dropped them, I wonder?” 
Alice guessed in a moment that it was looking for the 
fan and the pair of white kid-gloves, and she very good- 
naturedly began hunting about for them, but they were 
nowhere to be seen — everything seemed to have changed 
since her swim in the pool; and the great hall, with the 
glass table and the little door, had vanished completely. 

V ery soon the Rabbit noticed Alice, as she went hunt- 
ing about, and called out to her, in an angry tone, “Why, 
Mary Ann, what are you doing here? Run home this 
moment, and fetch me a pair of gloves and a fan ! Quick, 
now !” And Alice was so much frightened that she ran 
off at once in the direction it pointed to, without trying 
to explain the mistake that it had made. 

“He took me for his housemaid,” she said to herself 



[41] 




The Rabbit sends in a little bill. 

as she ran. “How surprised he’ll be when he finds out 
who I am ! But I’d better take him his fan and gloves — 
that is, if I can find them.” As she said this, she came 
upon a neat little house, on the door of which was a 
bright brass plate with the name “W. RABBIT” en- 
graved upon it. She went in without knocking, and 
hurried upstairs, in great fear lest she should meet the 
real Mary Ann, and be turned out of the house before 
she had found the fan and gloves. 

“How queer it seems,” Alice said to herself, “to be 
going messages for a rabbit! I suppose Dinah’ll be 
sending me on messages next !” And she began fancy- 
ing the sort of thing that would happen : “ ‘Miss Alice 1 
Come here directly, and get ready for your walk!’ 
‘Coming in a minute, nurse ! But I’ve got to watch this 
mouse-hole till Dinah comes back, and see that the mouse 
doesn't get out.’ Only I don’t think,” Alice went on, 
“that they’d let Dinah stop in the house if it began order- 
ing people about like that!”’ 

By this time she had found her way into a tidy little 
[ 42 ] 



The Rabbit sends in a little bill. 

room with a table in the window, and on it (as she had 
hoped) a fan and two or three pairs of tiny white kid- 
gloves: she took up the fan and a pair of gloves, and 
was just going to leave the room, when her eye fell upon 
a little bottle that stood near the looking-glass. There 
was no label this time with the words “DRINK ME,” 
but nevertheless she uncorked it and put it to her lips. 
‘“I know something interesting is sure to happen,” she 
said to herself, “whenever I eat or drink anything: so 
I’ll just see what this bottle does. I do hope it’ll make 
me grow large again, for really I’m quite tired of being 
such a tiny little thing!” 

It did so indeed, and much sooner than she had ex- 
pected: before she had drunk half the bottle, she found 
her head pressing against the ceiling, and had to stoop 
to save her neck from being broken. She hastily put 
down the bottle saying to herself, “That’s quite enough 
— I hope I shan’t grow any more — As it is, I can’t get 
out at the door — I do wish I hadn’t drunk quite so much !” 

Alas! It was too late to wish that! She went 

[ 43 ] 


on 




The Rabbit sends in a little bill. 

growing, and growing, and very soon had to kneel down 
on the floor : in another minute there was not even room 
for this, and she tried the effect of lying down with one 
elbow against the door, and the other arm curled round 
her head. Still she went on growing, and, as a last re- 
source, she put one arm out of the window, and one foot 
up the chimney, and said to herself, “Now I can do no 
more, whatever happens. What will become of me?” 

Luckily for Alice, the little magic bottle had now had 
its full effect, and she grew no larger: still it was very 
uncomfortable, and, as there seemed to be no sort of 
chance of her ever getting out of the room again, no 
wonder she felt unhappy. 

“It was much pleasanter at home,” thought poor Alice, 
“when one wasn’t always growing larger and smaller, 
and being ordered about by mice and rabbits. I almost 
wish I hadn’t gone down that rabbit hole — and yet — and 
yet — it’s rather curious, you know, this sort of life! I 
do wonder what can have happened to me! When I 
used to read fairy tales, I fancied that kind of thing never 
[ 44 ] 


T he Rabbit sends in a little bill. 

happened, and now here I am in the middle of one ! 
There ought to be a book written about me, that there 
ought! And when I grow up, I’ll write one — but I’m 
grown up now,” she added in a sorrowful tone: “at 
least there’s no room to grow up any more here.” 

“But then,” thought Alice, “shall I never get any older 
than I am now? That’ll be a comfort, one way — never 
to be an old woman — but then — always to have lessons 
to learn ! Oh, I shouldn’t like that!” 

“Oh, you foolish Alice !” she answered herself. “How 
can you learn lessons in here? Why, there’s hardly 
room for you, and no room at all for any lesson-books !” 

And so she went on, taking first one side and then the 
other, and making quite a conversation of it altogether; 
but after a few minutes she heard a voice outside, and 
stopped to listen. 

“Mary Ann! Mary Ann!” said the voice. “Fetch 
me my gloves this moment !” Then came a little patter- 
ing of feet on the stairs. Alice knew it was the Rabbit 
coming to look for her, and she trembled till she shook 
[ 45 ] 



T he Rabbit sends in a little bill. 

the house, quite forgetting that she was now about a 
thousand times as large as the Rabbit, and had no rea- 
son to be afraid of it. 

Presently the Rabbit came up to the door, and tried 
to open it; but, as the door opened inwards, and Alice’s 
elbow was pressed hard against it, that attempt proved a 
failure. Alice heard it say to itself, “Then I’ll go round 
and get in at the window.” 

"That you won’t!” thought Alice, and, after waiting 
till she fancied she heard the Rabbit just under the win- 
dow, she suddenly spread out her hand, and made a 
snatch in the air. She did not get hold of anything, but 
she heard a little shriek and a fall, and a crash of broken 
glass, from which she concluded that it was just possible 
it had fallen into a cucumber-frame, or something of the 
sort. 

Next came an angry voice— the Rabbit’s— “Pat ! 
Pat! Where are you?” And then a voice she had 
never heard before, “Sure then I’m here. Digging for 
apples, yer honor! 


[ 46 ] 



The Rabbit sends tn a little bill. 

“Digging for apples, indeed!”, said the Rabbit an- 
grily. “Here! Come and help me out of this!” 
(Sounds of broken glass.) 

“Now tell me, Pat, what’s that in the window?” 

“Sure, it’s an arm, yer honor!” (He pronounced it 
“arrum.”) 

“An arm, you goose! Who ever saw one that size? 
Why it fills the whole window !” 

“Sure, it does yer honor: but it’s an arm for all 
that.” 

“Well, it’s got no business there, at any rate: go and 
take it away!” 

There was a long silence after this, and Alice could 
only hear whispers now and then; such as, “Sure, I 
don’t like it, yer honor, at all, at all !” “Do as I tell you, 
you coward!”, and at last she spread out her hand 
again, and made another snatch in the air. This time 
there were two little shrieks, and more sounds of broken 
glass. “What a number of cucumber-frames there must 
be!” thought Alice. “I wonder what they’ll do next!, 
[ 47 ] 


The Rabbit sends in a little bill. 

As for pulling me out of the window, I only wish they 
could! I’m sure I don’t want to stay in here any longer !” 

She waited for some time without hearing anything 
more : at last came a rumbling of little cart-wheels, and 
the sound of a good many voices all talking together : 
she made out the words: “Where’s the other ladder? 
— Why, I hadn’t to bring but one. Bill’s got the other 
— Bill! Fetch it here, lad! — Here, put ’em up at this 
corner — No, tie ’em together first — they don’t reach 
half high enough yet — Oh, they’ll do well enough. 
Don’t be particular — Here, Bill! Catch hold of this 
rope — Will the roof bear? — Mind that loose slate — • 
Oh, it’s coming down! Heads below!” (A loud 
crash) — “Now, who did that? — It was Bill, I fancy — 
Who’s to go down the chimney? — Nay, I shan’t! You 
do it! — That I won’t, then! — Bill’s got to go down — 
Here, Bill ! The master says you’ve got to go down the 
chimney!” 

“Oh! So Bill’s got to come down the chimney, has 
he?” said Alice to herself. “Why, they seem to put 
[ 48 ] 




The Rabbit sends in a little bill. 

everything upon Bill ! I wouldn’t be in Bill’s place for 
a good deal: this fireplace is narrow, to be sure: but 
I think I can kick a little !” 

She drew her foot as far down the chimney as she 
could, and waited till she heard a little animal (she 
couldn’t guess of what sort it was) scratching and scram- 
bling about in the chimney close above her: then, say- 
ing to herself, “This is Bill,” she gave one sharp kick, 
and waited to see what would happen next. 

The first thing she heard was a general chorus of 
“There goes Bill!” then the Rabbit’s voice alone — 
“Catch him, you by the hedge !” then silence, and then 
another confusion of voices — “Hold up his head — 
Brandy now — Don’t choke him — How was it, old fel- 
low? What happened to you? Tell us all about it!” 

Last came a little, feeble, squeaking voice (“That’s 
Bill” thought Alice), “Well, I hardly know — No more, 
thank ye; I’m better now — but I’m a deal too flustered 
to tell you — all I know is, something comes at me like 
a Jack-in-the-box, and up I goes like a sky-rocket!” 

[ 49 ] 


T he Rabbit sends in a little bill. 

“So you did, old fellow !” said the others. 

“We must burn the house down!” said the Rabbit’s 
voice. And Alice called out, as loud as she could, “If 
you do, I’ll set Dinah on you !” 

There was a dead silence instantly, and Alice thought 
to herself, “I wonder what they will do next! .If they 
had any sense, they’d take the roof off.” After a minute 
or two, they began moving about again, and Alice 
heard the Rabbit say, “A barrowful will do, to begin 
with.” 

“A barrowful of what?” thought Alice. But she had 
not long to doubt, for the next moment a shower of 
little pebbles came rattling in at the window, and some 
of them hit her in the face. “I’ll put a stop to this,” she 
said to herself, and shouted out, “You’d better not do 
that again ! , which produced another dead silence. 

Alice noticed, with some surprise, that the pebbles 
were all turning into little cakes as they lay on the floor, 
and a bright idea came into her head. “If I eat one of 
these cakes,” she thought, “it’s sure to make 
[ 50 ] 


some 




©C1K109G91 






































J 


« 




» 







.1 











» 




















i-- 




\ 


t 

* 

\ 

* 

I 

i 





























The Rabbit sends in a little bill. 

change in my size; and, as it can’t possibly make me 
larger, it must make me smaller, I suppose.” 

So she swallowed one of the cakes, and was delighted 
to find that she began shrinking directly. As soon as 
she was small enough to get through the door, she ran 
out of the house, and found quite a crowd of little ani- 
mals and birds waiting outside. The poor little Lizard, 
Bill, was in the middle, being held up by two guinea- 
pigs, who were giving it something out of a bottle. 
They all made a rush at Alice the moment she appeared ; 
but she ran off as hard as she could, and soon found her- 
self safe in a thick wood. 

“The first thing I’ve got to do,” said Alice to herself, 
as she wandered about in the wood, “is to grow to my 
right size again ; and the second thing is to find my way 
into that lovely garden. I think that will be the best 
plan.” 

It sounded an excellent plan, no doubt, and very 
neatly and simply arranged: the only difficulty was, that 
she had not the smallest idea how to set about it* and 
[5i] 


T he Rabbit sends in a little bill. 

while she was peering about anxiously among the trees, 
a little sharp bark just over her head made her look up 
in a great hurry. 

An enormous puppy was looking down at her with 
large round eyes, and feebly stretching out one paw, try- 
ing to touch her. “Poor little thing!” said Alice, in a 
coaxing tone, and she tried hard to whistle to it; but she 
was terribly frightened all the time at the thought that 
it might be hungry, in which case it would be very likely 
to eat her up in spite of all her coaxing. 

Hardly knowing what she did, she picked up a little 
bit of stick, and held it out to the puppy ; whereupon the 
puppy jumped into the air off all its feet at once, with a 
yelp of delight, and rushed at the stick, and made believe 
to worry it : then Alice dodged behind a great thistle, to 
keep herself from being run over; and, the moment she 
appeared on the other side, the puppy made another 
rush at the stick, and tumbled head over heels in its hurry 
to get hold of it: then Alice, thinking it was very like 
having a game of play with a cart-horse, and expecting 
[ 52 ] 


The Rabbit sends in a little bill. 

every moment to be trampled under its feet, ran round 
the thistle again : then the puppy began a series of short 
charges at the stick, running a very little way forwards 
each time and a long wa* back, and barking hoarsely 
all the while, till at last it sat down a good way off, pant- 
ing, with its tongue hanging out of its mouth, and its 
great eyes half shut. 

This seemed to Alice a good opportunity for m aki ng 
her escape so she set off at once and ran till she was 
quite out of breath and till the puppy’s bark sounded 
quite faint in the distance. 

“And yet what a queer little puppy it was !’’ said Alice, 
as she leant against a buttercup to rest herself, and 
fanned herself with one of the leaves. “I should have 
liked teaching it tricks very much, if — if I’d only been 
the right size to do it ! Oh dear ! I’d nearly forgotten 
that I’ve got to grow up again! Let me see — how is 
it to be managed? I suppose I ought to eat or drink 
something or other; but the great question is ‘What?’ ” 

The question certainly was “What?”. Alice looked 

[ 53 ] 




T he Rabbit sends in a little bill. 

all around her at the flowers and the blades of grass, but 
she could not see anything that looked like the right 
thing to eat or drink under the circumstances. There 
was a large mushroom growing near her, about the 
same height as herself ; and, when she had looked under 
it, and on both sides of it, and behind it, it occurred to 
her that she might as well look and see what was on top 
of it. 

She stretched herself up on tiptoe, and peeped over 
the edge of the mushroom, and her eyes immediately 
met those of a large blue caterpillar, that was sitting on 
the top, with arms folded, quietly smoking a long 
hookah, and taking not the smallest notice of her or of 
anything else. 


[ 54 ] 
































AJOVXG6* 1rRO(X>A 


HE Caterpillar and 
Alice looked at each 
other for some time in 
silence : at last the Cater- 
pillar took the hookah 
out of his mouth, and 
addressed her in a lan- 
guid sleepy voice. 

“Who are youf” said 
the Caterpillar. 

This was not an en- 
couraging opening for 
a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I— I 
hardly know, Sir, just at present — at least I know who I 
was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have 
changed several times since then.” 

“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar, 
sternly. “Explain yourself!” 

“I can’t explain myself. I’m afraid, Sir,” said Alice, 
“because I’m not myself, you see.” 

“I don’t see,” said the Caterpillar. 

“I’m afraid I can’t put it more clearly,” Alice replied, 

[ 57 ] 



Advice from a Caterpillar. 


very politely, “for I can’t understand it myself, to begin 
with ; and being so many different sizes in a day is very 
confusing.” 

“It isn’t,” said the Caterpillar. 

“Well, perhaps you haven’t found it so yet,” said 
Alice; “but when you have to turn into a chrysalis — 
you will some day, you know — and then after that into 
a butterfly, I should think you’ll feel it a little queer, 
won’t you?’ ’ 

“Not a bit,” said the Caterpillar. 

“Well, perhaps your feelings may be different,” said 
Alice: “all I know is, it would feel very queer to me.” 

“You!” said the Caterpillar contemptuously. “Who 
are you f” 

Which brought them back again to the beginning of 
the conversation. Alice felt a little irritated at the Cat- 
erpillar’s making such very short remarks, and she drew 
herself up and said, very gravely, “I think you ought 
to tell me who you are, first.” 


Advice from a Caterpillar. 


“Why?” said the Caterpillar. 

Here was another puzzling question; and, as Alice 
could not think of any good reason, and the Caterpillar 
seemed to be in a very unpleasant state of mind, she 
turned away. 

“Come back!” the Caterpillar called after her. “I’ve 
something important to say!” 

This sounded promising, certainly. Alice turned 
and came back again. 

“Keep your temper,” said the Caterpillar. 

Is that all? ’ said Alice, swallowing down her anger 
as well as she could. 

“No,” said the Caterpillar. 

Alice thought she might as well wait, as she had noth- 
ing else to do, and perhaps after all it might tell her 
something worth hearing. For some minutes it puffed 
away without speaking; but at last it unfolded its arms, 
took the hookah out of its mouth again, and said, “So 
you think you’re changed, do you?” 

[ 59 ] 


Advice from a Caterpillar. 


“I’m afraid I am, Sir,” said Alice. “I can’t remem- 
ber things as I used — and I don’t keep the same size for 
ten minutes together !” 

Can’t remember what things?” said the Caterpillar. 
Well, I’ve tried to say ‘How doth the little busy beef 
but it all came different!” Alice replied in a very mel- 
ancholy voice. 

“Repeat ‘You are old, Father William ,’ ” said the 
Caterpillar. 

Alice folded her hands, and began : — 

“Yo u we old, Father William,” the young man said, 
“And your hair has become very white; 

And yet you incessantly stand on your head— 

Do you think, at your age, it is right f” 

“In my youth,” Father William replied to his son, 

“1 feared it might injure the brain; 

But, now that Fm perfectly sure I have none, 

W hy, I do it again and again!' 

“You are old,” said the youth, “as I mentioned before, 
And have grown most uncommonly fat; 

[6o] 


Advice from a Caterpillar . 


Yet you turned a back-s ommersault in at the door — 
Pray, what is the reason of that?” 

“ In my youth” said the sage, as he shook his gray 

locks, 

“ I kept all my limbs very supple 
By the use of this ointment — one shilling the box — 
Allow me to sell you a couple?” 

“Y- ou are old,” said the youth, “< and your jaws are too 

weak 

For anything tougher than suet; 

Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the 
beak — 

Pray, how did you manage to do it?” 

“ In my youth,” said his father, “ I took to the law, 
And argued each case with my wife; 

And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw 
Has lasted the rest of my life.” 

“ You are old,” said the youth, “ one would hardly 

suppose 

That your eye was as steady as ever; 

Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose — 
What made you so awfully clever?” 

m 


Advice from a Caterpillar. 


“I have answered three questions, and that is enough,” 
Said his father. “Don't give yourself airs! 

Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff f. 

Be off, or I’ll kick you down-stairs!” 

“That is not said right,” said the Caterpillar. 

■ “ Not W*te right, I’m afraid,” said Alice, timidly: 
“some of the words got altered.” 

“It is wrong from beginning to end,” said the Cater- 
pillar, decidedly; and there was silence for some min- 
utes. 

The Caterpillar was the first to speak. 

“What size do you want to be?” it asked. 

“Oh, I’m not particular as to size,” Alice hastily re- 
plied; “only one doesn’t like changing so often you 
know.” 

“‘I don’t know,” said the Caterpillar. 

Alice said nothing: she had never been so much con- 
tradicted in all her life before, and she felt that she 
was losing her temper. 

“Are you content now?” said the Caterpillar. 

[62] 



Nit a o-i 

— 7 - <.• x 



©C1K169692 j 














4* 


& V 


•v 


!* 








^ r 






*«' •- i*- • - ■ ■••tt'W 1 •« ■•'TV v« „ •* . 




■ M» «-... -v, <P. 




- 












•* • ** v* » r 








V 

; 










* 



V 


























■1 


« 


i 

? 




< 

4 

f 



















r 






U ■ . 













... ; «i ••• 



. . mV . ••' 









• i 

■>' 
























V 



















Advice from a Caterpillar. 


Well, I should like to be a little larger, Sir, if you 
wouldn’t mind,” said Alice: “three inches is such a 
wretched height to be.” 

“It is a very good height indeed!” said the Caterpillar 
angrily, rearing itself upright as it spoke (it was ex- 
actly three inches high). 

“But I’m not used to it!” pleaded poor Alice 
in a piteous tone. And she thought to herself, 
“I wish the creatures wouldn’t be so easily of- 
fended!” 

“You’ll get used to it in time,” said the Caterpillar; 
and it put the hookah into its mouth, and began smok- 
ing again. 

This time Alice waited patiently until it chose to speak 
again. In a minute or two the Caterpillar took the 
hookah out of its mouth, and yawned once or twice, 
and shook itself. Then it got down off the mushroom, 
and crawled away into the grass, merely remarking, 
as it went, “One side will make you grow taller, and 
the other side will make you grow shorter.” 

[63] 


Advice from a Caterpillar. 


One side of what f The other side of whatf” 
thought Alice to herself. 

Off the mushroom,” said the Caterpillar, just as if 
she had asked it aloud; and in another moment it was 
out of sight. 

Alice remained looking thoughtfully at the mushroom 
for a minute, trying to make out which were the two 
sides of it; and, as it was perfectly round, she found this 
a very difficult question. However, at last she stretched 
her arms around it as far as they would go, and broke 
off a bit of the edge with each hand. 

And now which is which?” she said to herself, and 
nibbled a little of the right-hand bit to try the effect. 
The next moment she felt a violent blow underneath her 
chin: it had struck her foot! 

She was a good deal frightened by this very sudden 
change, but she felt that there was no time to be lost, as 
she was shrinking rapidly: so she set to work at once to 
eat some of the other bit. Her chin was pressed so 
closely against her foot, that there was hardly room to 

[64] 


Advice from a Caterpillar. 


open her mouth; but she did at last, and managed to 
swallow a morsel of the left-hand bit. 

“Come, my head’s free at last!” said Alice in a tone 
of delight, which changed into alarm in another mo- 
ment, when she found that her shoulders were nowhere 
to be found: all she could see, when she looked down, 
was an immense length of neck, which seemed to rise 
like a stalk out of a sea of green leaves that lay far be- 
low her. 

“What can all that green stuff be?” said Alice. “And 
where have my shoulders got to? And oh, my poor 
hands, how is it I can’t see you ?” She was moving them 
about, as she spoke, but no result seemed to follow, ex- 
cept a little shaking among the distant green leaves. 

As there seemed to be no chance of getting her hands 
up to her head, she tried to get her head down to them, 
and was delighted to find that her neck would bend about 
easily in any direction, like a serpent. She had just 
succeeded in curving it down into a graceful zigzag, 
and was going to dive in among the leaves, which she 
[ 65 ] 


Advice from a Caterpillar. 


found to be nothing but the tops of the trees under which 
she had been wandering, when a sharp hiss made her 
draw back in a hurry: a large pigeon had flown into 
her face, and was beating her violently with its wings. 

“Serpent!” screamed the Pigeon. 

“I’m not a serpent !” said Alice indignantly. “Let me 
alone!” 

“Serpent, I say again!” repeated the Pigeon, but in 
a mere subdued tone, and added, with a kind of sob, 
“I’ve tried every way, but nothing seems to suit them!” 

“I haven’t the least idea what you’re talking about,” 
said Alice. 

I ve tried the roots of trees, and I’ve tried banks, and 
I’ve tried the hedges,” the Pigeon went on, without at- 
tending to her; “but those serpents! There’s no pleas- 
ing them!” 

Alice was more and more puzzled, but she thought 
there was no use in saying anything more till the 
Pigeon had finished. 

“As if it wasn’t trouble enough hatching the eggs,” 

[ 66 ] 


Advice from a Caterpillar. 


said the Pigeon; “but I must be on the lookout for ser- 
pents, night and day! Why, I haven’t had a wink of 
sleep these three weeks!” 

“I’m very sorry you’ve been annoyed,” said Alice, 
who was beginning to see its meaning. 

“And just as I’d taken the highest tree in the wood,” 
continued the pigeon, raising its voice to a shriek, “and 
just as I was thinking I should be free of them at last, 
they must needs come wriggling down from the sky! 
Ugh, Serpent!” 

“But I’m not a serpent, I tell you !” said Alice. “I’m 
a — I’m a — ” 

“Well! What are you?” said the Pigeon. “I can 
see you’re trying to invent something!” 

“I — I’m a little girl.” said Alice, rather doubtfully, 
as she remembered the number of changes she had gone 
through, that day. 

“A likely story indeed!” said the Pigeon, in a tone 
of the deepest contempt. “I’ve seen a good many little 
girls in my time, but never one with such a neck as 
[ 67 ] 


I 


Advice from a Caterpillar. 

that! No, no! You’re a serpent; and there’s no use 
denying it. I suppose you’ll be telling me next that 
you never tasted an egg!” 

“I have tasted eggs, certainly,” said Alice, who was 
a very truthful child; “but little girls eat eggs quite as 
much as serpents do, you know.” 

“I don’t believe it,” said the Pigeon; “but if they do, 
why, then they’re a kind of serpent: that’s all I can 
say.” 

This was such a new idea to Alice, that she was quite 
silent for a minute or two, which gave the Pigeon the 
opportunity of adding, “You’re looking for eggs, I 
know that well enough ; and what does it matter to me 
whether you’re a little girl or a serpent?” 

“It matters a good deal to me,” said Alice hastily; 
“but I’m not looking for eggs, as it happens; and, if I 
was, I shouldn’t want yours: I don’t like them raw.” 

“Well, be off, then!” said the Pigeon in a sulky tone, 
as it settled down again into its nest. Alice crouched 
down among the trees as well as she could, for her neck 
[ 68 ] 


Advice from a Caterpillar. 


kept getting entangled among the branches, and every 
now and then she had to stop and untwist it. After a 
while she remembered that she still held the pieces of 
mushroom in her hands, and she set to work very care- 
fully, nibbling first at one and then at the other, and 
growing sometimes taller, and sometimes shorter, un- 
til she had succeeded in bringing herself down to her 
usual height. 

It was so long since she had been anything near the 
right size, that it felt quite strange at first ; but she got 
used to it in a few minutes, and began talking to herself, 
as usual, “Come, there’s half my plan done now ! How 
puzzling all these changes are! I’m never sure what 
I’m going to be, from one minute to another! How- 
ever, I’ve got back to my right size: the next thing is, 
to get into that beautiful garden — how is that to be done, 
I wonder?” As she said this, she came suddenly upon 
an open space, with a little house in it about four feet 
high. “Whoever lives there,” thought Alice, “it’ll 
never do to come upon them this size: why, I should 
[ 69 ] 


Advice from a Caterpillar. 


frighten them out of their wits!” So she began nib- 
bling at the right-hand bit again, and did not venture 
to go near the house till she had brought herself down 
to nine inches high. 


[ 70 ] 






pig and peppery. * .*.* 



F OR a minute or two she stood looking at the 
house, and wondering what to do next, when sud- 
denly a footman in livery came running out of 


the wood — (she considered him to be a footman because 
he was in livery : otherwise, judging by his face only, she 
would have called him a fish) — and rapped loudly at the 
door with his knuckles. It was opened by another foot- 
man in livery, with a round face, and large eyes like a 
frog; and both footmen, Alice noticed, had powdered 
hair that curled all over their heads. She felt very cu- 
rious to know what it was all about, and crept a little way 
out of the wood to listen. 


[ 73 ] 



Pig and Pepper. 

The Fish-Footman began by producing from under 
his arm a great letter, nearly as large as himself, and this 
he handed over to the other, saying, in a solemn tone, 

For the Duchess. An invitation from the Queen to 
play croquet.” The Frog-Footman repeated, in the 
same solemn tone, only changing the order of the words 
a little, “From the Queen. An invitation for the 
Duchess to play croquet.” 

Then they both bowed low, and their curls got en- 
tangled together. 

Alice laughed so much at this, that she had to run 
back into the wood for fear of their hearing her; and, 
when she next peeped out, the Fish-Footman was gone, 
and the other was sitting on the ground near the door, 
staring stupidly up into the sky. 

Alice went timidly up to the door, and knocked. 

“There’s no sort of use in knocking,” said the Foot- 
man, “and that for two reasons. First, because I’m on 
the same side of the door as you are: secondly, be- 
ta] 


Pig and Pepper. 


cause they re making such a noise inside, no one could 
possibly hear you.” And certainly there was a most 
extraordinary noise going on within — a constant howl- 
ing and sneezing, and every now and then a great crash, 
as if a dish or kettle had been broken to pieces. 

Please, then,” said Alice, “how am I to get in?” 

There might be some sense in your knocking,” the 
Footman went on, without attending to her, “if we had 
the door between us. For instance, if you were inside, 
you might knock, and I could let you out, you know.” 
He was looking up into the sky all the time he was speak- 
ing, and this Alice thought decidedly uncivil. “But 
perhaps he can’t help it,” she said to herself; “his eyes 
are so very nearly at the top of his head. But at any 
rate he might answer questions. — How am I to get 
in?” she repeated, aloud. 

“I shall sit here,” the Footman remarked, “till to- 
morrow — ” 

At this moment the door of the house opened, and a 

[ 75 ] 


Pig and Pepper. 


large plate came skimming out, straight at the Foot- 
man’s head; it just grazed his nose, and broke to pieces 
against one of the trees behind him. 

“ — or next day, maybe,” the Footman continued in 
the same tone, exactly as if nothing had happened. 

“How am I to get in?” asked Alice again, in a louder 
tone. 

“ Are you to get in at all?” said the Footman. “That’s 
the first question, you know.” 

It was, no doubt: only Alice did not like to be told 
so. “It’s really dreadful,” she muttered to herself, “the 
way all the creatures argue. It’s enough to drive one 
crazy!” 

The Footman seemed to think this a good opportunity 
for repeating his remark, with variations. “I shall sit 
here,” he said, “on and off, for days and days.” 

“But what am I to do?” said Alice. 

“Anything you like,” said the Footman, and began 
whistling. 

“Oh, there’s no use in talking to him,” said Alice 

[ 76 ] 


Pig and Pepper. 

desperately: “he’s perfectly idiotic!” And she opened 
the door and went in. 

The door led right into a large kitchen, which was full 
of smoke from one end to the other : the Duchess was 
sitting on a three-legged stool in the middle, nursing a 
baby: the cook was leaning over the fire, stirring a 
large cauldron which seemed to be full of soup. 

“There’s certainly too much pepper in that soup!” 
Alice said to herself, as well as she could for sneezing. 

There was certainly too much of it in the air. Even 
the Duchess sneezed occasionally; and as for the baby, 
it was sneezing and howling alternately without a mo- 
ment’s pause. The only two creatures in the kitchen, 
that did not sneeze, were the cook, and a large cat, which 
was lying on the hearth and grinning from ear to ear. 

“Please would you tell me,” said Alice, a little timidly, 
for she was not quite sure whether it was good manners 
for her to speak first, “why your cat grins like that?” 

“It’s a Cheshire-Cat,” said the Duchess, “and that’s 
why. Pig!” 


[ 77 ] 


Pig and Pepper. 


She said the last word with such sudden violence that 
Alice quite jumped; but she saw in another moment 
that it was addressed to the baby, and not to her, so she 
took courage, and went on again: — 

“I didn’t know that Cheshire-Cats always grinned ; in 
fact, I didn’t know that cats could grin.” 

“They all can,” said the Duchess; “and most of ’em 
do.” 

“I don’t know of any that do,” Alice said very politely, 
feeling quite pleased to have got into a conversation. 

“You don’t know much,” said the Duchess ; “and that’s 
a fact.” 

Alice did not at all like the tone of this remark, and 
thought it would be as well to introduce some other sub- 
ject of conversation. While she was trying to fix on 
one, the cook took the cauldron of soup off the fire, and 
at once set to work throwing everything within her reach 
at the Duchess and the baby— the fire-irons came first; 
then followed a shower of sauce-pans, plates, and dishes. 
The Duchess took no notice of them even when they hit 
[ 78 ] 




©C1K169693 










* 


m 




4 








\ 




















i 

* 

* 






•* l' 1 


■ t* 





“ - .j- 1 ’Je*f 


-r\ *r. #■- 


J 


t 














Pig and Pepper. 

her; and the baby was howling so much already, that it 
was quite impossible to say whether the blows hurt it 
or not. 

“Oh, please mind what you’re doing!” cried Alice, 
jumping up and down in an agony of terror. “Oh, 
there goes his precious nose!”, as an unusually large 
sauce-pan flew close by it, and very nearly carried it off. 

If everybody minded their own business,” the Duch- 
ess said, in a hoarse growl, “the world would go around 
a deal faster than it does.” 

“Which would not be an advantage,” said Alice, who 
felt very glad to get an opportunity of showing off a 
little of her knowledge. “Just think what work it would 
make with the day and night! You see the earth takes 
twenty-four hours to turn round on its axis—” 

“Talking of axes,” said the Duchess, “chop off her 
head!” 

Alice glanced rather anxiously at the cook, to see if 
she meant to take the hint; but the cook was busily stir- 
ring the soup, and seemed not to be listening, so she went 
[ 79 ] 


Pig and Pepper. 

on again : “Twenty-four hours, I think; or is it twelve? 
I—” 

“Oh, don’t bother me!” said the Duchess. “I never 
could abide figures!” And with that she began nurs- 
ing her child again, singing a sort of lullaby to it as she 
did so, and giving it a violent shake at the end of every 
line : — 

“ Speak roughly to your little boy, 

And beat him when he sneezes: 

He only does it to annoy. 

Because he knows it teases.” 

Chorus 

(in which the cook and the baby joined) : — 

W ow! wow! wow!” 

While the Duchess sang the second verse of the song, 
she kept tossing the baby violently up and down, and 
the poor little thing howled so, that Alice could hardly 
hear the words : — 


[80] 


« 


Pig and Pepper. 

“I speak severely to my boy, 

I beat him when he sneezes ; 

For he can thoroughly enjoy 
The pepper when he pleases !” 

Chorus 

W owl wow! wow!” 

“Here! You may nurse it a bit, if you like!” the 
Duchess said to Alice, flinging the baby at her as she 
spoke. “I must go and get ready to play croquet with 
the Queen,” and she hurried out of the room. The cook 
threw a frying-pan after her as she went, but it just 
missed her. 

Alice caught the baby with some difficulty, as it was 
a queer-shaped little creature, and held out its arms and 
legs in all directions, “just like a starfish,” thought Alice. 
The poor little thing was snorting like a steam-engine 
when she caught it, and kept doubling itself up and 
straightening itself out again, so that altogether, for the 
first minute or two, it was as much as she could do to 
hold it. 


[81] 


P ig and Pepper. 


As soon as she had made out the proper way of nurs- 
ing it (which was to twist it up into a sort of knot, and 
then keep tight hold of its right ear and left foot, so as 
to prevent its undoing itself), she carried it out into the 
open air. “If I don’t take this child away with me,” 
thought Alice, “they’re sure to kill it in a day or two. 
Wouldn’t it be murder to leave it behind?” She said 
the last words out loud, and the little thing grunted in 
reply (it had left off sneezing by this time). “Don’t 
grunt, said Alice; “that’s not at all a proper way of 
expressing yourself.” 

The baby grunted again, and Alice looked very anx- 
iously into its face to see what was the matter with it. 
There could be no doubt that it had a very turn-up nose, 
much more like a snout than a real nose : also its eyes 
were getting extremely small for a baby: altogether 
Alice did not like the look of the thing at all. “But 
perhaps it was only sobbing,” she thought, and looked 
into its eyes again, to see if there were any tears. 

No, there were no tears. “If you’re going to turn 

[82] 


Pig and Pepper. 

into a pig, my dear,” said Alice, seriously, “I’ll have 
nothing more to do with you. Mind now !” The poor 
little thing sobbed again (or grunted, it was impossible 
to say which), and they went on for some while in si- 
lence. 

Alice was just beginning to think to herself, “Now, 
what am I to do with this creature, when I get it home?” 
when it grunted again, so violently, that she looked down 
into its face in some alarm. This time there could be no 
mistake about it : it was neither more nor less than a pig, 
and she felt that it would be quite absurd for her to carry 
it any further. 

So she set the little creature down, and felt quite re- 
lieved to see it trot away quietly into the wood. “If it 
had grown up,” she said to herself, “it would have made 
a dreadfully ugly child: but it makes a rather handsome 
pig, I think.” And she began thinking over other chil- 
dren she knew, who might do very well as pigs, and was 
just saying to herself, “if one only knew the right way 
to change them — ” when she was a little startled by 
[ 83 ] 


Pig and Pepper. 

seeing the Cheshire-Cat sitting on a bough of a tree a 
few yards off. 

The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice. It looked 
good-natured, she thought: still it had very long claws 
and a great many teeth, so she felt that it ought to be 
treated with respect. 

“Cheshire-Puss,” she began, rather timidly, as she did 
not at all know whether it would like the name: how- 
ever, it only grinned a little wider. “Come, it’s pleased 
so far,” thought Alice, and she went on. “Would you 
tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?” 

“That depends a good deal on where you want to get 
to,” said the Cat. 

“I don’t much care where — ” said Alice. 

“Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the 
Cat. 

“ — so long as I get somewhere Alice added as an 
explanation. 

“Oh, you’re sure to do that,” said the Cat, “if you only 
walk long enough.” 


[84] 


Pig and Pepper. 

Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried 
another question. “What sort of people live about 
here?” 

In that direction,” the Cat said, waving its right paw 
round, lives a Hatter : and in that direction,” waving 
the other paw, “lives a March Hare. Visit either you 
like : they’re both mad.” 

“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice re- 
marked. 

“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all 
mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.” 

“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice. 

“You must be,” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have 
come here.” 

Alice didn’t think that proved it at all : however, she 
went on: “And how do you know that you’re mad?” 

“To begin with,” said the Cat, “a dog’s not ma rl 
You grant that?” 

“I suppose so,” said Alice. 

“Well, then,” the Cat went on, “you see a dog growls 

[ 85 ] 


Pig and Pepper. 


when it’s angry, and wags its tail when it’s pleased. 
Now I growl when I’m pleased, and wag my tail when 
I’m angry. Therefore I’m mad.” 

“I call it purring, not growling,” said Alice. 

Call it what you like,” said the Cat. “Do you play 
croquet with the Queen to-day?” 

“I should like it very much,” said Alice, “but I haven’t 
been invited yet.” 

“You’ll see me there,” said the Cat, and vanished. 

Alice was not much surprised at this, she was getting 
so well used to queer things happening. While she was 
still looking at the place where it had been, it suddenly 
appeared again. 

“By-the-bye, what became of the baby?” said the Cat. 
“I’d nearly forgotten to ask.” 

“It turned into a pig,” Alice answered very quietly, 
just as if the Cat had come back in a natural way. 

“I thought it would,” said the Cat, and vanished again. 

Alice waited a little, half expecting to see it again, but 
it did not appear, and after a minute or two she walked 
[ 86 ] 


Pig and Pepper. 

on in the direction in which the March Hare was said 
to live. “I’ve seen hatters before,” she said to herself: 

the March Hare will be much the most interesting, and 
perhaps, as this is May, it won’t be raving mad — at least 
not so mad as it was in March.” As she said this, she 
looked up, and there was the Cat again, sitting on a 
branch of a tree. 

“Did you say ‘pig,’ or ‘fig’?” said the Cat. 

“I sa id ‘pig/ ” replied Alice : “and I wish you wouldn’t 
keep appearing and vanishing so suddenly: you make 
one quite giddy!” 

All right,” said the Cat; and this time it vanished 
quite slowly, beginning with the end of the tail, and end- 
ing with the grin, which remained some time after the 
rest of it had gone. 

“Well! I’ve often seen a cat without a grin,” thought 
Alice; “but a grin without a cat! It’s the most curious 
thing I ever saw in all my life.” 

She had not gone much farther before she came in 
sight of the house of the March Hare: she thought it 
[ 87 ] 


Pig and Pepper. 


must be the right house, because the chimneys were 
shaped like ears and the roof was thatched with fur. It 
was so large a house, that she did not like to go nearer 
till she had nibbled some more of the left-hand bit of 
mushroom, and raised herself to about two feet high: 
even then she walked up towards it rather timidly, saying 
to herself, “Suppose it should be raving mad after all ! 
I almost wish I’d gone to see the Hatter instead!” 


[ 88 ] 



t 










A TO T6A* PARTY. 

HERE was a table set out 
under a tree in front of the 
house, and the March Hare 
and the Hatter were having 
tea at it: a Dormouse was 
sitting between them, fast 
asleep, and the other two 
were using it as a cushion, 
resting their elbows on it, 
and talking over its head. 
“Very uncomfortable for 
the Dormouse,” thought Alice; “only its asleep, I sup- 
pose it doesn’t mind.” 

The table was a large one, but the three were all 
crowded together at one corner of it. “No room! No 
room!” they cried out when they saw Alice coming. 
“There’s plenty of room!” said Alice indignantly, and 
she sat down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table. 

“Have some wine,” the March Hare said in an en- 
couraging tone. 

Alice looked all around the table, but there was noth- 
ing on it but tea. “I don’t see any wine,” she remarked. 
[9i] 



A Mad Tea-party. 


“There isn’t any,” said the March Hare. 

“Then it wasn’t very civil of you to offer it,” said Alice 
angrily. 

“It wasn’t very civil of you to sit down without being 
invited,” said the March Hare. 

“I didn’t know it was your table,” said Alice: “it’s 
laid for a great many more than three.” 

“Your hair wants cutting,” said the Hatter. He had 
been looking at Alice for some time with great curiosity, 
and this was his first speech. 

“You should learn not to make personal remarks,” 
Alice said with some severity: “it’s very rude. 

The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; 
but all he said was, “Why is a raven like a writing- 
desk?” 

“Come, we shall have some fun now !” thought Alice. 
“I’m glad they’ve begun asking riddles— I believe I can 
guess that,” she added aloud. 

“Do you mean that you think you can find out the 
answer to it?” said the March Hare. 

[ 92 ] 


A Mad T ea Party. 


“Exactly so,” said Alice. 

“Then you should say what you mean,” the March 
Hare went on. 

“I do,” Alice hastily replied; “at least — at least I mean 
what I say — that’s the same thing, you know.” 

“Not the same thing a bit!” said the Hatter. “Why, 
you might just as well say that T see what I eat’ is the 
same thing as ‘I eat what I see’ !” 

“You might just as well say,” added the March Hare, 
“that T like what I get’ is the same thing as ‘I get what 
I like’!” 

“You might just as well say,” added the Dormouse, 
which seemed to be talking in its sleep, “that ‘I breathe 
when I sleep’ is the same thing as T sleep when I 
breathe’!” 

“It is the same thing with you,” said the Hatter, and 
here the conversation dropped, and the party sat silent 
for a minute, while Alice thought over all she could 
remember about ravens and writing-desks, which wasn’t 
much. 


[ 93 ] 


A Mad T ea Party. 


The Hatter was the first to break the silence. “What 
day of the month is it?” he said, turning to Alice : he had 
taken his watch out of his pocket, and was looking at it 
uneasily, shaking it every now and then, and holding it 
to his ear. 

Alice considered a little, and then said, “The fourth.” 

“Two days wrong!” sighed the Hatter. “I told you 
butter wouldn’t suit the works!” he added, looking an- 
grily at the March Hare. 

“It was the best butter,” the March Hare meekly re- 
plied. 

“Yes, Dut some crumbs must have got in as well” the 
Hatter grumbled: “you shouldn’t have put it in with 
the bread-knife.” 

The March Hare took the watch and looked at it 
gloomily: then he dipped it into his cup of tea, and 
looked at it again : but he could think of nothing better to 
say than his first remark, “It was the best butter, you 
know.” 

Alice had been looking over his shoulder with some 
[ 94 ] 






©C1K10SG94 




A Mad T ea Party. 


curiosity. “What a funny watch!” she remarked. “It 
tells the day of the month, and doesn’t tell what o’clock it 
is!” 

“Why should it?” muttered the Hatter. “Does your 
watch tell you what year it is?” 

“Of course not,” Alice replied very readily: “but 
that’s because it stays the same year for such a long time 
together.” 

“Which is just the case with mine said the Hatter. 

Alice felt dreadfully puzzled. The Hatter’s remark 
seemed to her to have no sort of meaning in it, and yet 
it was certainly English. “I don’t quite understand 
you,” she said, as politely as she could. 

“The Dormouse is asleep again,” said the Hatter, and 
he poured a little hot tea upon its nose. 

The Dormouse shook its head impatiently, and said, 
without opening its eyes, “Of course, of course; just 
what I was going to remark myself.” 

“Have you guessed the riddle yet?” the Hatter said, 
turning to Alice again. 


[ 95 ] 


A Mad T ea Party. 


“No, I give it up,” Alice replied. “What’s the an- 
swer?” 

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said the Hatter. 

“Nor I,” said the March Hare. 

Alice sighed wearily. “I think you might do some- 
thing better with the time,” she said, “than wasting it in 
asking riddles that have no answers.” 

“If you knew Time as well as I do,” said the Hatter, 
“you wouldn’t talk about wasting it. It’s him.” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Alice. 

“Of course you don’t !” the Hatter said, tossing his 
head contemptuously. “I dare say you never even 
spoke to Time!” 

“Perhaps not,” Alice cautiously replied; “but I know 
I have to beat time when I learn music.” 

“Ah ! That accounts for it,” said the Hatter. “He 
won’t stand beating. Now, if you only kept on good 
terms with him, he’d do almost anything you liked with 
the clock. For instance, suppose it were nine o’clock 
in the morning, just in time to begin lessons: you’d only 
[ 96 ] 


A Mad Tea Party. 


have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the clock 
in a twinkling! Half-past one, time for dinner!” 

(“I only wish it was,” the March Hare said to itself 
in a whisper.) 

“That would be grand, certainly,” said Alice thought- 
fully; “but then — I shouldn’t be hungry for it, you 
know.” 

“Not at first, perhaps,” said the Hatter: “but you 
could keep it to half-past one as long as you liked.” 

“Is that the way you manage?” Alice asked. 

The Hatter shook his head mournfully. “Not I !” he 
replied. “We quarreled last March — just before he 
went mad, you know — ” (pointing with his teaspoon at 
the March Hare) “ — it was at the great concert given by 
the Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing, 

‘Twinkle, twinkle, little bat! 

How I wonder what you re at!’ 

You know the song, perhaps?” 

“I’ve heard something like it,” said Alice. 

[ 97 ] 


A Mad T ea Party. 


“It goes on, you know,” the Hatter continued, “in 
this way : — 

‘Up above the world you fly, 

Like a tea-tray in the sky. 

T winkle, twinkle — ’ ” 

Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing 
in its sleep, “Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle ■ — ” and 
went on so long that they had to pinch it to make it 
stop. 

“Well, I’d hardly finished the first verse,” said the 
Hatter, “when the Queen bawled out, ‘He’s murdering 
the time ! Off with his head P ” 

“How dreadfully savage!” exclaimed Alice. 

“And ever since that,” the Hatter went on in a mourn- 
ful tone, “he won’t do a thing I ask! It’s always six 
o’clock now.” 

A bright idea came into Alice’s head. “Is that the 
reason so many tea-things are put out here?” she asked. 

“Yes, that’s it,” said the Hatter with a sigh: “it’s al- 

[ 98 ] 


A Mad Tea Party. 


ways tea-time, and we’ve no time to wash the things be- 
tween whiles.” 

“Then you keep moving round, I suppose?” said 
Alice. 

Exactly so, ’ said the Hatter: “as the things get used 
up.” 

But what happens when you come to the beginning 
again?” Alice ventured to ask. 

“Suppose we change the subject,” the March Hare 
interrupted, yawning. “I’m getting tired of this. I 
vote the young lady tells us a story.” 

“I’m afraid I don’t know one,” said Alice, rather 
alarmed at the proposal. 

“Then the Dormouse shall 1” they both cried. “Wake 
up, Dormouse I” And they pinched it on both sides at 
once. 

The Dormouse slowly opened its eyes. “I wasn’t 
asleep,” it said in a hoarse, feeble voice, “I heard every 
word you fellows were saying.” 

“Tell us a story!” said the March Hare. 

[ 99 ] 


S9 


A Mad T ea Party. 

“Yes, please do !” pleaded Alice. 

“And be quick about it,” added the Hatter, “or you’ll 
be asleep again before it’s done.” 

“Once upon a time there were three little sisters,” the 
Dormouse began in a great hurry; “and their names 
were Elsie, Lacie and Tillie; and they lived at the bot- 
tom of a well — ” 

“What did they live on?” said Alice, who always took 
a great interest in questions of eating and drinking. 

“They lived on treacle,” said the Dormouse, after 
thinking a minute or two. 

“They couldn’t have done that, you know,” Alice 
gently remarked. “They’d have been ill.” 

“So they were,” said the Dormouse; “very ill.” 

Alice tried a little to fancy to herself what such an 
extraordinary way of living would be like, but it puzzled 
her too much ; so she went on : “But why did they live 
at the bottom of a well?” 

“Take some more tea,” the March Hare said to Alice, 
very earnestly. 


[ioo] 


A Mad T ea Party. 


“I’ve had nothing yet,” Alice replied in an offended 
tone : “so I can’t take more.” 

“You mean you can’t take less ” said the Hatter: “it’s 
very easy to take more than nothing.” 

“Nobody asked your opinion,” said Alice. 

“Who’s making personal remarks now?” the Hatter 
asked triumphantly. 

Alice did not quite know what to say to this : so she 
helped herself to some tea and bread-and-butter, and 
then turned to the Dormouse, and repeated her question. 
“Why did they live at the bottom of the well?” 

The Dormouse again took a minute or two to think 
about it, and then said, “It was a treacle-well.” 

“There’s no such thing!” Alice was beginning very 
angrily, but the Hatter and the March Hare went “Sh ! 
Sh!” and the Dormouse sulkily remarked, “If you can’t 
be civil, you’d better finish the story for yourself.” 

“No, please go on!” Alice said very humbly. “I 
won’t interrupt you again. I dare say there may be 

Troil 


one. 


A Mad Tea Party. 


“One, indeed!” said the Dormouse indignantly. 
However, he consented to go on. “And so these three 
little sisters — they were learning to draw, you know — ” 

“What did they draw?” said Alice, quite forgetting 
her promise. 

“Treacle,” said the Dormouse, without considering 
at all, this time. 

“I want a clean cup,” interrupted the Hatter: “let’s 
all move one place on.” 

He moved on as he spoke, and the Dormouse followed 
him : the March Hare moved into the Dormouse’s place 
and Alice rather unwillingly took the place of the March 
Hare. The Hatter was the only one who got any ad- 
vantage from the change; and Alice was a good deal 
worse off than before, as the March Hare had just up- 
set the milk-jug into his plate. 

Alice did not wish to offend the Dormouse again, so 
she began very cautiously: “But I don’t understand. 
Where did they draw the treacle from?” 

“You can draw water from a water-well,” said the 
[102] 




A Mad Tea-party. 

Hatter; so I should think you could draw treacle out 
of a treacle-well— eh, stupid?” 

“But they were in the well,” Alice said to the Dor- 
mouse, not choosing to notice this last remark. 

“Of course they were,” said the Dormouse: “well 
in.” 

This answer so confused poor Alice, that she let the 
Dormouse go on for some time without interrupting it. 

“They were learning to draw,” the Dormouse went 
on, yawning and rubbing its eyes, for it was getting very 
sleepy; “and they drew all manner of things — every- 
thing that begins with an M — ” 

“Why with an M?” said Alice. 

“Why not?” said the March Hare. 

Alice was silent. 

The Dormouse had closed its eyes by this time, and 
was going off into a doze; but, on being pinched by the 
Hatter, it woke up again with a little shriek, and went 
on : “ — that begins with .an M, such as mouse-trap, and 
the moon, and memory, and muchness — you know you 

[103] 


A Mad T ea Party. 


say things are ‘much of a muchness’ — did you ever see 
such a thing as a drawing of a muchness !” 

“Really, now you ask me,” said Alice, very much con- 
fused, “I don’t think — ” 

“Then you shouldn’t talk,” said the Hatter. 

This piece of rudeness was more than Alice could 
bear: she got up in great disgust, and walked off: the 
Dormouse fell asleep instantly, and neither of the others 
took the least notice of her going, though she looked 
back once or twice, half hoping that they would call 
after her: the last time she saw them, they were trying 
to put the Dormouse into the tea-pot. 

“At any rate I’ll never go there again !” said Alice, as 
she picked her way through the wood. “It’s the stupidest 
tea-party I ever was at in all my life !” 

Just as she said this, she noticed that one of the trees 
had a door leading right into it. “That’s very curious !” 
she thought. “But everything’s curious to-day. I think 
I may as well go in at once.” And in she went. 

Once more she found herself in the long hall, and 
[104] 


e 


A Mad T ea Party. 

close to the little glass table. “Now, I’ll manage better 
this time, she said to herself, and began by taking the 
little golden key, and unlocking the door that led into 
the garden. Then she set to work nibbling at the mush- 
room (she had kept a piece of it in her pocket) till she 
was about a foot high : then she walked down the little 
passage : and then — she found herself at last in the beau- 
tiful garden, among the bright flower-beds and the cool 
fountains. 


[105] 



OCU&& N’ff GROQOST- QfCOTND. 

CHApT &K. VIM. 

"opf toitfT 


I 1aro~s rose-tree stood near the en- 
I trance of the garden ; the roses growing on it 
were white, but there were three gardeners at 
■ it, busily painting them red. Alice thought 
this a very curious thing, and she went nearer to watch 
them, and, just as she came up to them, she heard one of 
them say, Look out now, Five I Don’t go splashing 
paint over me like that !” 

“I couldn’t help it,” said Five, in a sulky tone. “Seven 
jogged my elbow.” 

On which Seven looked up and said, “That’s right, 
Five ! Always lay the blame on others !” 

“ You'd better not talk!” said Five. “I heard the 
Queen say only yesterday you deserved to be beheaded.” 

“What for?” said the one who had spoken first. 

“That’s none of your business, Two !” said Seven. 

[107] 





The Queen’s Croquet-ground. 


“Yes, it is his business!” said Five. “And I’ll tell 
him — it was for bringing the cook tulip-roots instead of 
onions.” 

Seven flung down his brush, and had just begun, 
Well, of all the unjust things — ” when his eyes chanced 
to fall upon Alice, as she stood watching them, and he 
checked himself suddenly : the others looked round also, 
and all of them bowed low. 

“Would you tell me, please,” said Alice, a little 
timidly, “why you are painting those roses?” 

Five and Seven said nothing, but looked at Two. Two 
began, in a low voice, “Why, the fact is, you see, Miss, 
this here ought to have been a red rose tree, and we put 
a white one by mistake; and, if the Queen was to find 
it out, we should all have our heads cut off, you know. 
So you see, Miss, we’re doing our best, afore she comes, 
t0 — ” At this moment, Five, who had been anxiously 
looking across the garden, called out, “The Queen! 
The Queen! , and the three gardeners instantly threw 
themselves flat upon their faces. There was a sound of 

fio8] 


The Queen’s Croquet-ground. 


many footsteps, and Alice looked round, eager to see 
the Queen. 

First came ten soldiers carrying clubs ; these were all 
shaped like the three gardeners, oblong and flat, with 
their hands and feet at the corners : next the ten couriers : 
these were ornamented all over with diamonds, and 
walked two and two, as the soldiers did. After these 
came the royal children : there were ten of them, and the 
little dears came jumping merrily along, hand in hand, 
in couples : they were all ornamented with hearts. Next 
came the guests, mostly Kings and Queens, and among 
them Alice recognized the White Rabbit : it was talking 
in a hurried nervous manner, smiling at everything that 
was said, and went by without noticing her. Then fol- 
lowed the Knave of Hearts, carrying the King’s crown 
on a crimson velvet cushion; and, last of all this grand 
procession came THE KING AND THE QUEEN 
OF HEARTS. 

Alice was rather doubtful whether she ought not to 
lie down on her face like the three gardeners, but she 
[109] 


The Queen s Croquet-ground. 

could not remember ever having heard of such a rule at 
processions: “and besides, what would be the use of a 
procession,” thought she, “if people had to lie down on 
their faces, so that they couldn’t see it?” So she stood 
where she was, and waited. 

When the procession came opposite to Alice, they all 
stopped and looked at her, and the Queen said, severely, 
“Who is this?”. She said it to the Knave of Hearts, 
who only bowed and smiled in reply. 

“Idiot !” said the Queen, tossing her head impatiently; 
and, turning to Alice, she went on : “What’s your name, 
child?” 

“My name is Alice, so please your Majesty,” said 
Alice very politely; but she added, to herself, “Why* 
they’re only a pack of cards, after all. I needn’t be 
afraid of them!” 

“And who are these f” said the Queen, pointing to 
the three gardeners who were lying round the rose-tree; 
for, you see, as they were lying on their faces, and the 
[no] 



r* • ' * l i 

!\ i ! I I 

k . W - 




©C1K109G95 








































- . 






































































































































































































2 


The Queen s Croquet-ground. 

pattern on their backs was the same as the rest of the 
pack, she could not tell whether they were gardeners, or 
soldiers, or courtiers, or three of her own children. 

“How should 1 know?’ said Alice, surprised at her 
own courage. “It’s no business of mine ” 

The Queen turned crimson with fury, and, after glar- 
ing at her for a moment like a wild beast, began scream- 
ing “Off with her head ! Off with — ” 

“Nonsense!” said Alice, very loudly and decidedly, 
and the Queen was silent. 

The King laid his hand upon her arm, and timidly 
said, “Consider, my dear: she is only a child!” 

The Queen turned angrily away from him, and said 
to the Knave, “Turn them over!” 

The Knave did so, very carefully, with one foot. 

“Get up !” said the Queen in a shrill, loud voice, and 
the three gardeners instantly jumped up, and began 
bowing to the King, the Queen, the royal children, and 
everybody else. 


[in] 


The Queen's Croquet-ground . 


“Leave off that!” screamed the Queen. “You make 
me giddy.” And then, turning to the rose-tree, she 
went on, “What have you been doing here?” 

“May it please your Majesty,” said Two, in a very 
humble tone, going down on one knee as he spoke, “we 
were trying — ” 

I see ! said the Queen, who had meanwhile been ex- 
amining the roses. “Off with their heads !” and the pro- 
cession moved on, three of the soldiers remaining be- 
hind to execute the unfortunate gardeners, who ran to 
Alice for protection. 

“You shan’t be beheaded!” said Alice, and she put 
them into a large flower-pot that stood near. The three 
soldiers wandered about for a minute or two, looking 
for them, and then quietly marched off after the others. 

“Are their heads off?” shouted the Queen. 

Their heads are gone, if it please your Majesty!” 
the soldiers shouted in reply. 

“That’s right!” shouted the Queen. “Can you play 
croquet?” 

[H2] 


The Queen’s Croquet-ground. 


The soldiers were silent, and looked at Alice, as the 
question was evidently meant for her. 

“Yes!” shouted Alice. 

“Come on, then !” roared the Queen, and Alice joined 
the procession, wondering very much what would hap- 
pen next. 

“It’s — it’s a very fine day!” said a timid voice at her 
side. She was walking by the White Rabbit, who was 
peeping anxiously into her face. 

“Very,” said Alice. “Where’s the Duchess?” 

“Hush ! Hush I” said the Rabbit in a low, hurried tone. 
He looked anxiously over his shoulder as he spoke, and 
then raised himself upon tiptoe, put his mouth close to 
her ear, and whispered, “She’s under sentence of execu- 
tion.” 

“What for?” said Alice. 

“Did you say, ‘What a pity’?” the Rabbit asked. 

“No, I didn’t,” said Alice. “I don’t think it’s at all a 
pity. I said, ‘What for?’ ” 

“She boxed the Queen’s ears — ” the Rabbit began. 
[ 113 ] 


The Queen s Croquet-ground. 

Alice gave a little scream of laughter. “Oh, hush !” the 
Rabbit whispered in a frightened tone. “The Queen 
will hear you ! You see she came rather late, and the 
Queen said — ” 

“Get to your places!” shouted the Queen in a voice of 
thunder, and people began running about in all direc- 
tions, tumbling up against each other: however, they 
got settled down in a minute or two, and the game began.' 

Alice thought she had never seen such a curious 
croquet-ground in her life : it was all ridges and furrows : 
the croquet balls were live hedgehogs, and the mallets 
live flamingoes, and the soldiers had to double them- 
selves up and stand on their hands and feet, to make the 
arches. 

The chief difficulty Alice found at first was in manag- 
ing her flamingo: she succeeded in getting its body 
tucked away, comfortably enough, under her arm, with 
its legs hanging down, but generally, just as she had got 
its neck nicely straightened out, and was going to give 
the hedgehog a blow with its head, it would twist itself 

[114] 


3 


The Queen’s Croquet-ground. 

round and look up in her face, with such a puzzled ex- 
pression that she could not help bursting out laughing; 
and, when she had got its head down, and was going to 
begin again, it was very provoking to find that the 
hedgehog had unrolled itself, and was in the act of 
crawling away: besides all this, there was generally a 
ridge or a furrow in the way wherever she wanted to 
send the hedgehog to, and, as the doubled-up soldiers 
were always getting up and walking off to other parts 
of the ground, Alice soon came to the conclusion that 
it was a very difficult game indeed. 

The players all played at once, without waiting for 
turns, quarreling all the while, and fighting for the 
hedgehogs; and in a very short time the Queen was in a 
furious passion, and went stamping about, and shout- 
ing, “Off with his head!” or “Off with her head!” about 
once in a minute. 

Alice began to feel very uneasy: to be sure, she had 
not as yet had any dispute with the Queen, but she knew 
that it might happen any minute, “and then,” thought 
[H5] 


The Queen s Croquet-ground. 

she, “what would become of me? They’re dreadfully 
fond of beheading people here: the great wonder is, 
that there’s any one left alive !” 

She was looking about for some way of escape, and 
wondering whether she could get away without being 
seen, when she noted a curious appearance in the air : 
it puzzled her very much at first, but after watching it 
a minute or two she made it out to be a grin, and she 
said to herself, “It’s the Cheshire-Cat : now I shall have 
somebody to talk to.” 

“How are you getting on?” said the Cat, as soon as 
there was mouth enough for it to speak with. 

Alice waited until the eyes appeared, and then nod- 
ded. “It’s no use of speaking to it,” she thought, “till 
its ears have come, or at least one of them.” In another 
minute the whole head appeared, and then Alice put 
down her flamingo, and began an account of the game, 
feeling very glad she had some one to listen to her. The 
Cat seemed to think that there was enough of it now in 
sight, and no more of it appeared. 

[n6] 


The Queen’s Croquet-ground. 

I don’t think they play at all fairly,” Alice began, 
in rather a complaining tone, “and they all quarrel so 
dreadfully one can’t hear oneself speak — and they don’t 
seem to have any rules in particular: at least, if there 
are, nobody attends to them — and you’ve no idea how 
confusing it is all the things being alive: for instance, 
there s the arch I’ve got to go through next walking 
about at the other end of the ground — and I should have 
croqueted the Queen’s hedgehog just now, only it ran 
away when it saw mine coming!” 

“How do you like the Queen?” said the Cat in a low 
voice. 

“Not at all,” said Alice: “she’s so extremely — ” Just 
then she noticed that the Queen was close behind her, 
listening: so she went on “ — likely to win, that it’s 
hardly worth while finishing the game.” 

The Queen smiled and passed on. 

“Who are you talking to?” said the King, coming up 
to Alice, and looking at the Cat’s head with great cur- 
iosity. 


a 


T he Queen s Croquet-ground. 

“It’s a friend of mine — a Cheshire-Cat,” said Alice: 
“allow me to introduce it.” 

“I don’t like the look of it at all,” said the King: “how- 
ever, it may kiss my hand, if it likes.” 

“I’d rather not,” the Cat remarked. 

“Don’t be impertinent,” said the King, “and don’t 
look at me like that !” He got behind Alice as he spoke. 

“A cat may look at a king,” said Alice. “I’ve read 
that in some book, but I don’t remember where.” 

“Well, it must be removed,” said the King very decid- 
edly ; and he called to the Queen, who was passing at the 
moment, “My dear ! I wish you would have this cat re- 
moved!” 

The Queen had only one way of settling all difficulties, 
great or small. “Off with his head!” she said without 
even looking round. 

“I’ll fetch the executioner myself,” said the King 
eagerly, and he hurried off. 

Alice thought she might as well go back and see how 
the game was going on, as she heard the Queen’s voice 

[n8] 







£ 







C1K169696 











' '•> \ A 








~ ■ * 














‘ 









* 








r. ! 
V 

r 


. *.<**■» ■ 




















y 




«• *• 


, 


4 , 


* 














































\ 


«• 










































•1 



The Queen s Croquet-ground . 

in the distance, screaming with passion. She had al- 
ready heard her sentence three of the players to be exe- 
cuted for having missed their turns, and she did not 
like the looks of things at all, as the game was in such 
confusion that she never knew whether it was her turn 
or not. So she went off in search of her hedgehog. 

The hedgehog was engaged in a fight with another 
hedgehog, which seemed to Alice an excellent oppor- 
tunity for croqueting one of them with the other: the 
only difficulty was, that her flamingo was gone across to 
the other side of the garden, where Alice could see it 
trying in a helpless sort of way to fly up into a tree. 

By the time she had caught the flamingo and brought 
it back the fight was over, and both the hedgehogs were 
out of sight : “but it doesn’t matter much,” thought Alice, 
“as all the arches are gone from this side of the ground.” 
So she tucked it away under her arm, that it might not 
escape again, and went back to have a little more con- 
versation with her friend. 

When she got back to the Cheshire-Cat, she was sur- 

[ii9] 


The Queen s Croquet-ground. 

prised to find quite a large crowd collected round it: 
there was a dispute going on between the executioner, 
the King, and the Queen, who were all talking at once, 
while all the rest were quite silent, and looked very un- 
comfortable. 

The moment Alice appeared, she was appealed to by 
all three to settle the question, and they repeated their 
arguments to her, though, as they all spoke at once, she 
found it very hard to make out exactly what they said. 

The executioner’s argument was, that you couldn’t 
cut off a head unless there was a body to cut it off from : 
that he had never had to do such a thing before, and he 
wasn’t going to begin at his time of life. 

The King’s argument was that anything that had a 
head could be beheaded, and that you weren’t to talk 
nonsense. 

The Queen’s argument was, that if something wasn’t 
done about it in less than no time, she’d have everybody 
executed, all round. (It was this last remark that had 
made the whole party look so grave and anxious.) 

[120] 


The Queen s Croquet-ground. 


Alice could think of nothing else to say but, “It be- 
longs to the Duchess : you’d better ask her about it.” 

She s in prison,” the Queen said to the executioner: 
fetch her here. And the executioner went off like an 
arrow. 

The Cat s head began fading away the moment he was 
gone, and, by the time he had come back with the 
Duchess, it had entirely disappeared: so the King and 
the executioner ran wildly up and down, looking for it, 
while the rest of the party went back to the game. 


[ 121 ] 




TM6 a?OGK TttHTte’S' STORY* 

GMAFTe?R IX. 

can’t think how 
glad I am to see you again, 
you dear old thing!” said 
the Duchess, as she tucked 
her arm affectionately into 
Alice’s, and they walked off 
together. 

Alice was very glad to 
find her in such a pleasant 
temper, and thought to her- 
self that perhaps it was only, 
the pepper that had made her so savage when they met in 
the kitchen. 

“When I’m a Duchess,” she said to herself (not in a 
very hopeful tone, though), “I won’t have any pepper in 
my kitchen at all. Soup does very well without — May- 
be it’s always pepper that makes people hot-tempered,” 
she went on, very much pleased at having found out a 
new kind of rule, “and vinegar that makes them 
sour and camomile that makes them bitter — and — and 

[123] 


The Mock-Turtle’s Story. 

barley-sugar and such things that make children 
sweet-tempered. I only wish people knew that: 
then they wouldn’t be so stingy about it, you 
know — ” 

She had quite forgotten the Duchess by this time, and 
was a little startled when she heard her voice close to her 
ear. “You’re thinking about something, my dear, and 
that makes you forget to talk. I can’t tell you just now 
what the moral of that is, but I shall remember it in a 
bit.” 

“Perhaps it hasn’t one,” Alice ventured to remark. 

“Tut, tut, child!” said the Duchess. “Everything’s 
got a moral, if only you can find it.” And she squeezed 
herself up closer to Alice’s side as she spoke. 

Alice did not much like her keeping so close to her: 
first, because the Duchess was very ugly ; and secondly, 
because she was exactly the right height to rest her chin 
on Alice’s shoulder, and it was an uncomfortably sharp 
chin. However, she did not like to be rude : so she bore 
it as well as she could. 


[124] 


T he Mock-T urtle’s Story. 


“The game’s going on rather better now,” she said, 
by way of keeping up the conversation a little. 

“ ’Tis so,” said the Duchess : “And the moral of that 
is — ‘Oh, ’tis lpve, ’tis love, that makes the world go 
round!’ ” 

“Somebody said,” Alice whispered, “that it’s done by 
everybody minding their own business!” 

“Ah, well ! It means much the same thing,” said the 
Duchess, digging her sharp little chin into Alice’s shoul- 
der as she added, “and the moral of that is — ‘Take care 
of the sense, and the sounds will take care of them- 
selves.’ ” 

“How fond she is of finding morals in things !” Alice 
thought to herself. 

“I dare say you’re wondering why I don’t put my 
arms round your waist,” the Dutchess said, after a pause : 
“the reason is, that I’m doubtful about the temper of 
your flamingo. Shall I try the experiment?” 

“He might bite,” Alice cautiously replied not feeling 
anxious to have the experiment tried. 

[125] 


The Mock-Turtle’s Story. 


Very true, ’ said the Duchess : “flamingoes and mus- 
tard both bite. And the moral of that is — ‘Birds of a 
feather flock together.’ ” 

“Only mustard isn’t a bird,” Alice remarked. 

“Right, as usual,” said the Duchess: “what a clear 
way you have of putting things!” 

“It’s a mineral, I think ” said Alice. 

Of course it is,” said the Duchess, who seemed ready 
to agree to everything that Alice said: “there’s a large 
mustard-mine near here. And the moral of that is— 
‘The more there is of mine, the less there is of 
yours.’ ” 

“Oh, I know!” exclaimed Alice, who had not at- 
tended to this last remark. “It’s a vegetable. It doesn’t 
look like one, but it is.” 

“I quite agree with you,” said the Duchess; “and the 
moral of that is— ‘Be what you would seem to be’— or, 
if you’d like to put it more simply— ‘Never imagine 
yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to 
others that what you were or might have been was not 
[126] 


The Mock-Turtle's Story. 


otherwise than what you had been would have appeared 
to them to be otherwise.’ ” 

“I think I should understand that better,” Alice said 
very politely, “if I had it written down : but I can’t quite 
follow it as you say it.” 

“That’s nothing to what I could say if I chose,” the 
Duchess replied, in a pleased tone. 

“Pray don’t trouble yourself to say it any longer than 
that,” said Alice. 

“Oh, don’t talk about trouble !” said the Duchess. “I 
make you a present of everything I’ve said as yet.” 

“A cheap sort of present l” thought Alice. “I’m glad 
people don’t give birthday-presents like that!” But 
she did not venture to say it out loud. 

“Thinking again?” the Duchess asked, with another 
dig of her sharp little chin. 

“I’ve a right to think,” said Alice sharply, for she was 
beginning to feel a little worried. 

“Just about as much right,” said the Duchess, “as 
pigs have to fly; and the m — ” 

[127] 


The Mock-Turtle' s Story. 


But here, to Alice’s great surprise, the Duchess’s voice 
died away, even in the middle of her favorite word 
‘moral,’ and the arm that was linked into hers began 
to tremble. Alice looked up, and there stood the Queen 
in front of them, with her arms folded, frowning like a 
thunderstorm. 

“A fine day, your Majesty!” the Duchess began in 
a low, weak voice. 

“Now, I give you a fair warning,” shouted the Queen, 
stamping on the ground as she spoke; “either you or 
your head must be off, and that in about half no time! 
Take your choice!” 

The Duchess took her choice, and was gone in a mo- 
ment. 

“Let’s go on with the game,” the Queen said to Alice; 
and Alice was too much frightened to say a word, but 
slowly followed her back to the croquet-ground. 

The other guests had taken advantage of the Queen’s 
absence, and were resting in the shade: however, the 
moment they saw her, they hurried back to the game, 
[128] 


The Mock-Turtle’s Story. 


the Queen merely remarking that a moment’s delay 
would cost them their lives. 

All the time they were playing the Queen never left 
off qarreling with the other players, and, shouting 
“Off with his head!” or, “Off with her head!” Those 
whom she sentenced were taken into custody by the 
soldiers, who of course had to leave off being arches 
to do this, so that, by the end of half an hour or so, there 
were no arches left, and all the players, except the King, 
the Queen, and Alice, were in custody and under sen- 
tence of execution. 

Then the Queen left off, quite out of breath, and said 
to Alice, “Have you seen the Mock Turtle yet?” 

“No,” said Alice. “I don’t even know what a Mock 
Turtle is.” 

“It’s the thing Mock Turtle Soup is made from,” 
said the Queen. 

“I never saw one, or heard of one,” said Alice. 

“Come on, then,” said the Queen, “and he shall tell 
you his history.” 


[129] 


The Mock-Turtle’s Story. 

As they walked off together, Alice heard the King 
say in a low voice, to the company generally, “You are 
all pardoned.” “Come, that’s a good thing!” she said 
to herself, for she had felt quite unhappy at the number 
of executions the Queen had ordered. 

They very soon came upon a Gryphon, lying fast 
asleep in the sun. (If you don’t know what a Gryphon 
is, look at the picture.) “Up lazy thing!” said the 
Queen, “and take this young lady to see the Mock Turtle, 
and to hear his history. I must go back and see after 
some executions I have ordered”; and she walked off, 
leaving Alice alone with the Gryphon. Alice did not 
quite like the look of the creature, but on the whole she 
thought it would be quite as safe to stay with it as to go 
after that savage Queen: so she waited. 

The Gryphon sat up and rubbed its eyes: then it 
watched the Queen till she was out of sight : then it chuc- 
kled. “What fun !” said the Gryphon, half to itself, half 
to Alice. 


[130] 


The Mock-Turtle’s Story. 


“What is the fun?” said Alice. 

“Why, she,” said the Gryphon. “It’s all her fancy, 
that: they never executes nobody, you know. Come 
on I” 

“Everybody says ‘come on!’ here,” thought Alice, as 
she went slowly after it: “I never was so ordered about 
before, in all my life, never !” 

They had not gone far before they saw the Mock 
Turtle in the distance, sitting sad and lonely on a little 
ledge of rock, and, as they came nearer, Alice could hear 
him sighing as if his heart would break. She pitied him 
deeply. “What is his sorrow?” she asked the Gryphon. 
And the Gryphon answered, very nearly in the same 
words as before, “It’s all his fancy, that: he hasn’t got 
no sorrow, you know. Come on !” 

So they went up to the Mock Turtle, who looked at 
them with large eyes full of tears, but said nothing. 

“This here young lady,” said the Gryphon, “she wants 
for to know your history, she do.” 

[I3i] 


The Mock-Turtle’s Story. 


“I’ll tell it her,” said the Mock Turtle in a deep, hol- 
low tone. “Sit down, both of you, and don’t speak a 
word till I’ve finished.” 

So they sat down, and nobody spoke for some minutes. 
Alice thought to herself, “I don’t see how he can 
ever finish, if he doesn’t begin.” But she waited pa- 
tiently. 

“Once,” said the Mock Turtle at last, with a deep 
sigh, “I was a real Turtle.” - 

These words were followed by a very long silence, 
broken only by an occasional exclamation of “Hjckrrh !” 
from the Gryphon, and the constant heavy sobbing of 
the Mock Turtle. Alice was very nearly getting up 
and saying, “Thank you, Sir, for your interesting story,” 
but she could not help thinking there must be more to 
come, so she sat still and said nothing. 

“When we were little,” the Mock Turtle went on at 
last, more calmly, though still sobbing a little now and 
then, “we went to school in the sea. The master was an 
old Turtle — we used to call him Tortoise — ” 

[ 132 ] 


The Mock-Turtle's Story. 


“Why did you call him Tortoise, if he wasn’t one?” 
Alice asked. 

“We called him Tortoise because he taught us,” said 
the Mock Turtle angrily. “Really you are very dull!” 

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself for asking such 
a simple question,” added the Gryphon; and then they 
both sat silent and looked at poor Alice, who felt ready 
to sink into the earth. At last the Gryphon said to the 
Mock Turtle, “Drive on, old fellow! Don’t be all day 
about it !” and he went on in these words : — 

“Yes, we went to school in the sea, though you mayn’t 
believe it — ” 

“I never said I didn’t!” interrupted Alice angrily. 

“You did,” said the Mock Turtle. 

“Hold your tongue!” added the Gryphon, before 
Alice could speak again. The Mock Turtle went on. 

“We had the best of educations — in fact, we went to 
school every day — ” 

“I’ve been to a day-school, too,” said Alice. “You 
needn’t be so proud as all that.” 

[ 133 ] 


The Mock-Turtle’s Story. 

“With extras?” asked the Mock Turtle, a little anx- 
iously. 

Yes,” said Alice: “we learned French and music.” 

“And washing?” said the Mock Turtle. 

“Certainly not!” said Alice indignantly. 

“Ah ! Then yours wasn’t a really good school,” said 
the Mock Turtle in a tone of great relief. “Now, at 
ours, they had, at the end of the bill, ‘French, music, 
and washing — extra.’ ” 

“You couldn’t have wanted it much,” said Alice; 
“living at the bottom of the sea.” 

“I couldn’t afford to learn it,” said the Mock Turtle 
with a sigh. “I only took the regular course.” 

“What’s that?” inquired Alice. 

“Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with,” the 
Mock Turtle replied; “and then the different branches 
of Arithmetic— Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, 
and Derision.” 

“I never heard of ‘Uglification,’ ” Alice ventured to 
say. “What is it?” 


[ 134 ] 


The Mock-Turtle' s Story. 

The Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise. 
“Never heard of uglifying !” it exclaimed. “You know 
what to beautify is, I suppose?” 

“Yes,” said Alice doubtfully: “it means — to — make 
— anything— prettier.” 

“Well, then,” the Gryphon went on, “if you don’t 
know what to uglify is, you are a simpleton.” 

Alice did not feel encouraged to ask any more ques- 
tions about it: so she turned to the Mock Turtle, and 
said, “What else had you to learn?” 

“Well, there was Mystery,” the Mock Turtle replied, 
counting off the subjects on his flappers, — “Mystery, 
ancient and modern, with seaography : then Drawling — 
the Drawling-master was an old conger-eel, that used 
to come once a week : he taught us Drawling, Stretch- 
ing, and Fainting in Coils.” 

“What was that like?” said Alice. 

Well I can’t show it you, myself,” the Mock Turtle 
said: “I’m too stiff. And the Gryphon never learnt 
it.” 


[ 135 ] 


The Mock-Turtle’s Story. 


“Hadn’t time,” said the Gryphon: “I went to the clas- 
sical master, though. He was an old crab, he was.” 

“I never went to him,” the Mock Turtle said with a 
sigh. “He taught Laughing and Grief, they used to 
say.” 

“So he did, so he did,” said the Gryphon, sighing in 
his turn; and both creatures hid their faces in their 
paws. 

“And how many hours a day did you do lessons?” 
said Alice, in a hurry to change the subject. 

“Ten hours the first day,” said the Mock Turtle : “nine 
the next, and so on.” 

“What a curious plan!” exclaimed Alice. 

“That’s the reason they’re called lessons,” the Gry- 
phon remarked: “because they lessen from day to day.” 

This was quite a new idea to Alice, and she thought 
it over a little before she made her next remark. “Then 
the eleventh day must have been a holiday?” 

“Of course it was,” sa*id the Mock Turtle. 

[ 136 ] 


The Mock-Turtle's Story. 


“And how did you manage on the Twelfth?” Alice 
went on eagerly. 

“That’s enough about lessons,” the Gryphon inter- 
rupted in a very decided tone. “Tell her something 
about the games now.” 


[ 137 ] 






Ln pjHG" CDOCR '\VtfZ\Uf sighed deeply, 
K I ( | an< ^ drew the back of one flapper across his 
ggjjjl eyes. He looked at Alice and tried to speak, 
but for a minute or two, sobs choked his voice. 
“Same as if he had a bone in his throat,” said the 
Gryphon ; and it set to work shaking him and punching 
him in the back. At last the Mock Turtle recovered his 
voice, and, with tears running down his cheeks, he went 
on again : — 


“You may not have lived much under the sea — ” (“I 
haven’t,” said Alice) — “and perhaps you were never 
even introduced to a lobster — ” (Alice began to say “I 
once tasted — ” but checked herself hastily, and said “No, 
never”) “ — so you can have no idea what a delightful 
thing a Lobster-Quadrille is!” 

[ 139 ] 



The Lobster Quadrille. 


No, indeed, ’ said Alice. “What sort of a dance is 
it?” 

“Why,” said the Gryphon, “you first form into a line 
along the seashore — ” 

“Two lines !” cried the Mock Turtle. “Seals, turtles, 
salmon, and so on: then, when you’ve cleared all the 
jelly-fish out of the way — ” 

“That generally takes some time,” interrupted the 
Gryphon. 

“ — you advance twice — ” 

“Each with a lobster as a partner!” cried the Gry- 
phon. 

“Of course,” the Mock Turtle said: “advance twice, 
set to partners — ” 

“—change lobsters, and retire in same order,” con- 
tinued the Gryphon. 

“Then, you know,” the Mock Turtle went on, “you 
throw the — ” 

“The lobsters!” shouted the Gryphon, with a bound 
into the air. 


[140] 



?. • * • 

! '4fc ! i 

i ; w 


\i 

mS 




© Cl K 169697 

































. — 


— 

































































































“ 




































































- X 










T he Lobster Quadrille. 


— “as far out to sea as you can — ” 

“Swim after them I” screamed the Gryphon. 

“Turn a sommersault in the sea!” cried the Mock 
Turtle, capering wildly about. 

“Change lobsters again!” yelled the Gryphon at the 
top of his voice. 

“Back to land again, and — that’s all the first figure,” 
said the Mock Turtle, suddenly dropping his voice ; and 
the two creatures, who had been jumping about like 
mad things all this time, sat down again very sadly and 
quietly, and looked at Alice. 

“It must be a very pretty dance,” said Alice timidly . 

“Would you like to see a little of it?” said the Mock 
Turtle. 

“Very much indeed,” said Alice. 

“Come, let’s try the first figure !” said the Mock Turtle 
to the Gryphon. “We can do it without lobsters, you 
know. Which shall sing?” 

“Oh, you sing,” said the Gryphon. “I’ve forgotten 
the words.” 

[141] 


The Lobster Quadrille. 


So they began solemnly dancing round and round 
Alice, every now and then treading on her toes, when 
they passed too close, and waving their fore-paws to 
mark the time, while the Mock Turtle sang this, very 
slowly and sadly: — 

y° u wa lk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail, 

1 here s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading 
on my tail. 

See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance! 
1 hey are waiting on the shingle— -will you come and 
join the dance? 

Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join 
the dance? 

Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you 
join the dance? 

“You can really have no notion how delightful it will 

be 

When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, 
out to sea!” 

But the snail replied, " Too far, too far!”, and gave a 
look askance — 


[142] 





'mS 


y t 

^ JL 


'll 



C1K1G9G98 



The Lobster Quadrille. 


Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not 
join the dance. 

W ould not, could not, would not, could not, could not 
join the dance. 

W ould not, could not, would not, could not join the 

dance. 

“ What matters it how far we go?” his scaly friend 

replied. 

“T here is another shore, you know, upon the other side. 
T he further off from England the nearer is to France — 
T hen turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the 

dance. 

Will you, wont you, will you, wont you, will you 
join the dance ? 

Will you, wont you, will you, wont you, won’t you 
join the dance?” 

“Thank you, it’s a very interesting dance to watch,” 
said Alice, feeling very glad that it was over at last : “and 
I do so like that curious song about the whiting!” 

“Oh, as to the whiting,” said the Mock Turtle, “they 
— you’ve seen them, of course?” 

[ 143 ] 


The Lobster Quadrille. 


“Yes,” said Alice, “I’ve often seen them at dinn — ” 
she checked herself hastily. 

“I don’t know where Dinn may be,” said the Mock 
Turtle; “but, if you’ve seen them so often, of course 
you know what they’re like?” 

“I believe so,” Alice replied thoughtfully. “They 
have their tails in their mouths — and they’re all over 
crumbs.” 

“You’re wrong about crumbs,” said the Mock Turtle: 
“crumbs would all wash off in the sea, But they have 
their tails in their mouths; and the reason is—” here the 
Mock Turtle yawned and shut his eyes. “Tell her about 
the reason and all that,” he said to the Gryphon, 

“The reason is,” said the Gryphon, “that they would 
go with the lobsters to the dance. So they got thrown 
out to sea. So they had to fall a long way. So they got 
their tails fast in their mouths. So they couldn’t get 
them out again. That’s all.” 

“Thank you,” said Alice, “it’s very interesting. I 
never knew so much about a whiting before.” 

[ 144 ] 


T he Lobster Quadrille. 


“I can tell you more than that, if you like,” said the 
Gryphon. Do you know why it’s called a whiting?” 

“I never thought about it,” said Alice. “Why?” 

It does the boots and shoes,” the Gryphon replied 
very solemnly. 

Alice was thoroughly puzzled. “Does the boots and 
shoes!” she repeated in a wondering tone. 

“Why, what are your shoes done with?” said the Gry- 
phon. “I mean what makes them so shiny?” 

Alice looked down at them, and considered a little be- 
fore she gave her answer. “They’re done with blacking, 
I believe.” 

“Boots and shoes under the sea,” the Gryphon went 
on in a deep voice, “are done with whiting. Now you 
know.” 

“And what are they made of?” Alice asked in a tone 
of great curiosity. 

“Soles and eels, of course,” the Gryphon replied, 
rather impatiently: “any shrimp could have told you 
that.” 


[ 145 ] 


t 


The Lobster Quadrille. 

If I d been the whiting,” said Alice, whose thoughts 
were still running on the song, “I’d have said to the por- 
poise, keep back, please ! We don’t want you with us !” 

“They were obliged to have him with them,” the Mock 
Turtle said. “No wise fish would go anywhere without 
a porpoise.” 

Wouldn t it, really ?” said Alice, in a tone of great 
surprise. 

“Of course not,” said the Mock Turtle. “Why, if a 
fish came to me, and told me he was going a journey, I 
should say, ‘With what porpoise?’ ” 

“Don’t you mean ‘purpose’?” said Alice. 

“I mean what I say,” the Mock Turtle replied, in an 
offended tone. And the Gryphon added, “Come, let’s 
hear some of your adventures.” 

“I could tell you my adventures— beginning from this 
morning,” said Alice a little timidly; “but it’s no use 
going back to yesterday, because I was a different per- 
son then.” 

“Explain all that,” said the Mock Turtle. 

[146] 


The Lobster Quadrille. 


“No, no ! The adventures first,” said the Gryphon in 
an impatient tone: “explanations take such a dreadful 
time.” 

So Alice began telling them her adventures from the 
time when she first saw the White Rabbit. She was a 
little nervous about it, just at first, the two creatures got 
so close to her, one on each side, and opened their eyes 
and mouths so very wide; but she gained courage as she 
went on. Her listeners were perfectly quiet till she got 
to the part about her repeating, “You are old, Father 
JV illiam,” to the Caterpillar, and the words all coming 
different, and then the Mock Turtle drew a long breath, 
and said, “That’s very curious !” 

“It’s all about as curious as it can be,” said the Gry- 
phon. 

“It all came different!” the Mock Turtle repeated 
thoughtfully. “I should like to hear her try and repeat 
something now. Tell her to begin.” He looked at the 
Gryphon as if he thought it had some kind of authority 
over Alice. 


[ 147 ] 


The Lobster Quadrille. 

“Stand up and repeat, ‘ ’Tis the voice of the slug- 
ard,’ ” said the Gryphon. 

“How the creatures order one about, and make one 
repeat lessons!” thought Alice. “I might just as well 
be at school at once.” However, she got up, and began 
to repeat it, but her head was so full of the Lobster- 
Quadrille, that she hardly knew what she was saying ; and 
the words came very queer indeed : — 

“ ’ Tis the voice of the Lobster: I heard him declare 
You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair * 
As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose 
T rims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes. 

JV hen the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark, 

And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark; 

But, when the tide rises and sharks are around, 

His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.” 

“That’s different from what I used to say when I was 
a child,” said the Gryphon. 

“Well, / never heard it before,” said the Mock Turtle; 
“but it sounds uncommon nonsense.” 

Alice said nothing : she had sat down with her face in 
[148] 


The Lobster Quadrille. 


her hands, wondering if anything would ever happen 
in a natural way again. 

“I should like to have it explained,” said the Mock 
Turtle. 

“She can’t explain it,” said the Gryphon hastily. “Go 
on with the next verse.” 

“But about his toes?” the Mock Turtle persisted. 
“How could he turn them out with his nose, you know?” 

“It’s the first position in dancing,” Alice said; but 
she was dreadfully puzzled by the whole thing, and 
longed to change the subject. 

“Go on with the next verse,” said Gryphon repeated: 
“it begins ‘I passed by his garden ” 

Alice did not dare to disobey, though she felt sure it 
would all come wrong, and she went on in a trembling 
voice : — 


“I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye. 
How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie: 
The Panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat, 
W hile the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat. 

[ 149 ] 


T he Lobster Quadrille. 


IV hen the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon, 
fV as kindly permitted to pocket the spoon: 

W hile the Panther received knife and fork with a growl, 
And concluded the banquet by — ” 

“What is the use of repeating all that stuff?” the 
Mock Turtle interrupted, “if you don’t explain it as you 
go on? It’s far the most confusing thing I ever heard !” 

“Yes, I think you’d better leave off,” said the Gry- 
phon, and Alice was only too glad to do so. 

“Shall we try another figure of the Lobster-Quad- 
rille?” the Gryphon went on. “Or would you like the 
Mock Turtle to sing another song?” 

“Oh, a song, please, if the Mock Turtle would be so 
kind,” Alice replied, so eagerly that the Gryphon said, 
in a rather offended tone, “Hm! No accounting for 
tastes! Sing her ‘ Turtle Soup,’ will you, old fellow?” 

The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and began, in a voice 
choked with sobs, to sing this : — 

“Beautiful Soup, so rich and green, 

JV aiting in a hot tureen! 

[ 150 ] 


The Lobster Quadrille . 


Who for such dainties would not stoop f 
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup! 

Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup! 

Beau — ootiful Soo — oop! 

Beau — ootiful Soo — oop! 

Soo — oop of the e — e — evening, 

Beautiful, beautiful Soup ! 

Beautiful Soup! W ho cares for fish, 

Game, or any other dish ? 

Who would not give all else for two 
pennyworth only of beautiful Soup f 
Pennyworth only of beautiful soupf 
Beau — ootiful Soo — oop! 

Beau — ootiful Soo — oop ! 

Soo — oop of the e — e — evening. 

Beautiful, beauti — FUL SOUP!” 

“Chorus again!” cried the Gryphon, and the Mock 
Turtle had just begun to repeat it, when a cry of, “The 
trial’s beginning!” was heard in the distance. 

“Come on !” cried the Gryphon, and, taking Alice by 
the hand, it hurried off, without waiting for the end of 
the song. 

[I5i] 


T he Lobster Quadrille. 


“What trial is it?” Alice panted as she ran; but the 
Gryphon only answered, “Come on !” and ran the faster, 
while more and more faintly came, carried on the breeze 
that followed them, the melancholy words : — 

“Soo — oop of the e — e — evening. 

Beautiful, beautiful Soup!” 



* 





















































i 



























































9 














V 























WHO STVL& -m& TARTS’? 

I© King and Queen of 
Hearts were seated on their 
throne when they arrived, 
with a great crowd as- 
sembled about them — all 
kinds of little birds and 
beasts, as well as the whole 
pack of cards: the Knave 
was standing before them 
in chains, with a soldier on 
each side to guard him; and near the King was the 
White Rabbit, with a trumpet in one hand, and a scroll 
of parchment in the other. In the very middle of the 
court was a table, with a large dish of tarts upon it; they 
looked so good, that it made Alice quite hungry to look 
at them — “I wish they’d get the trial done,” she thought, 
“and hand round the refreshments!” But there seemed 
to be no chance of this; so she began looking at every- 
thing about her to pass away the time. 

Alice had never been in a court of justice before, but 
had read about them in books, and she was quite pleased 
to find that she knew the name of nearly everything 
[ 155 ] 



Who stole the Tartsf 


there. “That’s the judge,” she said to herself, “because 
of his great wig.” 

The judge, by the way, was the King; and, as he wore 
his crown over the wig (look at the picture if you want 
to see how he did it) , he did not look at all comfortable, 
and it was certainly not becoming. 

“And that’s the jury-box” thought Alice; “and those 
twelve creatures” (she was obliged to say “creatures,” 
you see, because some of them were animals, and some 
were birds), “I suppose they are the jurors.” She said 
this last word two or three times over to herself, being 
rather proud of it : for she thought, and rightly too, that 
very few girls of her age knew the meaning of it all. 
However, “jurymen” would have done just as well. 

The twelve jurors were all writing very busily on 
slates. “What are they doing?” Alice whispered to the 
Gryphon. “They can’t have anything to put down yet, 
before the trial’s begun.” 

“They’re putting down their names,” the Gryphon 
[ 156 ] 


Who stole the Tarts f 


whispered in reply, “for fear they should forget them be- 
fore the end of the trial.” 

“Stupid things!” Alice began in a loud indignant 
voice; but she stopped herself hastily, for the White 
Rabbit cried out, “Silence in the court!” and the King 
put on ms spectacles and looked anxiously round, to 
make out who was talking. 

Alice could see, as well as if she were looking over 
their shoulders, that all the jurors were writing down, 
“Stupid things!” on their slates, and she could even 
make out that one of them didn’t know how to spell 
“stupid,” and that he had to ask his neighbor to tell him. 
“A nice muddle their slates’ll be in, before the trial’s 
over!” thought Alice. 

One of the jurors had a pencil that squeaked. This, 
of course, Alice could not stand, and she went round the 
court and got behind him, and very soon found an op- 
portunity of taking it away. She did it so quickly that 
the poor little juror (it was Bill, the Lizard) could not 
[ 157 ] 


Who stole the Tartsf 


make out at all what had become of it; so, after hunting 
all about for it, he was obliged to write with one finger 
for the rest of the day; and this was of very little use, as it 
left no mark on the slate. 

“Herald, read the accusation!” said the King. 

On this the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the 
trumpet, and then unrolled the parchment-scroll, and 
read as follows : — 

“The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts. 

All on a summer day: 

The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts 
■And took them quite away!” 

‘‘Consider your verdict,” the King said to the jury. 
“ Not yet. not yet!” the Rabbit hastily interrupted. 
“There’s a great deal to come before that!” 

“Call the first witness,” said the King; and the White 
Rabbit ble\y three blasts on the trumpet, and called out, 
“First witness!” 

The fir& witness was the Hatter. He came in with 
a tea-cup in one hand and a piece of bread-and-butter in 
[ 158 ] 



fi in/ 1 

s ; w « ^ J. 


'22 


©C1K109699 

































. ' * . .. 


• • *— 




































































* 






































































































" " ... J 

W ho stole the Tarts? 

the other. “I beg pardon, your Majesty,” he began, 
“for bringing these in; but I hadn’t quite finished my 
tea when I was sent for.” 

“You ought to have finished,” said the King. “When 
did you begin?” 

The Hatter looked at the March Hare, who had fol- 
lowed him into the court, arm-in-arm with the Dor- 
mouse. “F ourteenth of March, I think it was,” he said. 

“Fifteenth,” said the March Hare. 

“Sixteenth,” said the Dormouse. 

‘ W rite that down,” the King said to the jury ; and the 
jury eagerly wrote down all three dates on their slates, 
and then added them up, and reduced the answer to shil- 
lings and pence. 

“Take off your hat,” the King said to the Hatter. 

“It isn’t mine,” said the Hatter. 

“Stolenr the King exclaimed, turning to the jury, 
who instantly made a memorandum of the fact. 

“I keep them to sell,” the Hatter added as an explana- 
tion. “I’ve none of my own. I’m a hatter.” 

[ 159 ] 


Who stole the Tarts? 


Here the Queen put on her spectacles, and began star- 
ing hard at the Hatter, who turned pale and fidgeted. 

“Give your evidence,” said the King; “and don’t be 
nervous, or I’ll have you executed on the spot.” 

This did not seem to encourage the witness at all; he 
kept shifting from one foot to the other, looking un- 
easily at the Queen, and in his confusion he bit a large 
piece out of his teacup instead of the bread-and-but- 
ter. 

Just at this moment Alice felt a very curious sensa- 
tion, which puzzled her a good deal until she made out 
what it was : she was beginning to grow larger again, and 
she thought at first she would get up and leave the court ; 
but on second thoughts she decided to remain where she 
was as long as there was room for her. 

“I wish you wouldn’t squeeze so,” said the Dormouse, 
who was sitting next to her, “I can hardly breathe.” 

“I can’t help it,” said Alice, meekly: “I’m grow- 
ing.” 

“You’ve no right to grow here ” said the Dormouse. 

[160] 




Who stole the Tarts? 

“Don’t talk nonsense,” said Alice more boldly: “you 
know you’re growing too.” 

“Yes, but I grow at a reasonable pace,” said the Dor- 
mouse : “not in that ridiculous fashion.” And he got up 
very sulkily and crossed over to the other side of the 
court. 

All this time the Queen had never left off staring at 
the Hatter, and just as the Dormouse crossed the court, 
she said, to one of the officers of the court “Bring me 
the list of singers in the last concert!” On which the 
wretched Hatter trembled so, that he shook off both his 
shoes. 

“Give your evidence,” the King repeated angrily, “or 
I’ll have you executed, whether you’re nervous or not.” 

“I’m a poor man, your Majesty,” the Hatter began, 
in a trembling voice, “and I hadn’t begun my tea — not 
above a week or so — and what with the bread-and-butter 
getting so thin — and the twinkling of the tea — ” 

“The twinkling of what?” said the King. 

“It began with the tea,” the Hatter replied. 

[161] 


Who stole the Tarts f 


“Of course twinkling begins with a T!” said the King 
sharply. “Do you take me for a dunce? Go on !” 

“I’m a poor man,” the Hatter went on, “and most 
things twinkled after that— only the March Hare said—” 
I didn’t!” the March Hare interrupted in a great 
hurry. 

“You did!” said the Hatter. 

“I deny it!” said the March Hare. 

“He denies it,” said the King: “leave out that part.” 

“Well, at any rate the Dormouse said—” the Hatter 
went on, looking anxiously round to see if he would deny 
it too; but the Dormouse denied nothing, being fast 
asleep. 

“After that,” continued the Hatter, “I cut some more 
bread-and-butter — ” 

“But what did the Dormouse say?” one of the jury 
asked. 

“That I can’t remember,” said the Hatter. 

“You must remember,” remarked the King, “or I’ll 
have you executed.” 

[162] 




Who stole the Tarts f 

The miserable Hatter dropped his teacup and bread- 
and-butter, and went down on one knee. “I’m a poor 
man, your Majesty,” he began. 

“You’re a very poor speaker,” said the King. 

Here one of the guinea-pigs cheered, and was imme- 
diately suppressed by the officers of the court. (As that 
is rather a hard word, I will just explain to you how it 
was done. They had a large canvas bag, which tied up 
at the mouth with strings: into this they slipped the 
guinea-pig, head first, and then sat upon it.) 

“I’m glad I’ve seen that done,” thought Alice. “I’ve 
so often read in the newspapers, at the end of trials, 
‘There was some attempt at applause, which was imme- 
diately suppressed by the officers of the court,’ and I 
never understood what it meant till now.” 

“If that’s all you know about it, you may stand down,” 
continued the King. 

“I can’t go no lower,” said the Hatter: “I’m on the 
floor, as it is.” 

“Then you may sit down,” the King replied. 

[163] 


Who stole the Tarts f 


Here the other guinea-pig cheered, and was sup- 
pressed. 

“Come, that finishes the guinea-pigs!” thought Alice. 
“Now we shall get on better.” 

“I’d rather finish my tea,” said the Hatter, with an 
anxious look at the Queen, who was reading the list of 
singers. 

“You may go,” said the King, and the Hatter hur- 
riedly left the court, without even waiting to put his 
shoes on. 

“ — and just take his head off outside,” the Queen added 
to one of the officers; but the Hatter was out of sight be- 
fore the officer could get to the door. 

“Call the next witness !” said the King. 

The next witness was the Duchess’s cook. She car- 
ried the pepper-box in her hand, and Alice guessed who 
it was, even before she got into the court, by the way the 
people near the door began sneezing all at once. 

“Give your evidence,” said the King. 

[164] 




W ho stole the Tarts f 

“Shan’t,” said the cook. 

The King looked anxiously at the White Rabbit, who 
said, in a low voice, “your Majesty must cross-examine 
this witness.” 

Well, if I must, I must,” the King said with a mel- 
ancholy air, and, after folding his arms and frowning at 
the cook till his eyes were nearly out of sight, he said, in 
a deep voice, “What are tarts made of?” 

“Pepper, mostly,” said the cook. 

“Treacle,” said a sleepy voice behind her. 

“Collar that Dormouse!” the Queen shrieked out. 
‘Behead that Dormouse! Turn that Dormouse out of 
court! Suppress him! Pinch him! Off with his 
whiskers!” 

For some minutes the whole court was in confusion, 
getting the Dormouse turned out, and, by the time they 
had settled down again, the cook had disappeared. 

“Never mind!” said the King, with an air of great 
relief. “Call the next witness.” And, he added, in an 

[165] 


3 


Who stole the Tarts ? 

undertone to the Queen, “Really, my dear, you must 
cross-examine the next witness. It quite makes my fore- 
head ache!” 

Alice watched the White Rabbit as he fumbled over 
the list, feeling very curious to see what the next witness 
would be like, “—for they haven’t got much evidence 
yet, she said to herself. Imagine her surprise, when 
the White Rabbit read out, at the top of his shrill little 
voice, the name “Alice!” 


[166] 





cwqp 
XII • 

cried Alice, quite 
forgetting in the flurry of the 
moment how large she had 
grown in the last few minutes, 
and she jumped up in such a 
hurry that she tipped over the 
jury-box with the edge of her 
skirt, upsetting all the jurymen 
on to the heads of the crowd below, and there they lay 
sprawling about reminding her very much of a globe of 
gold-fish she had accidentally upset the week before. 

“Oh, I beg your pardon!” she exclaimed in a tone 
of great dismay, and began picking them up again as 
quickly at she could, for the accident of the gold-fish 
kept running in her head, and she had a vague sort of 
idea that they must be collected at once and put back 
into the jury-box, or they would die. 

“The trial cannot proceed,” said the King, in a very 
[169] 



Alice s Evidence. 

grave voice, “until all the jurymen are back in their 
proper places — all," he repeated with great emphasis, 
looking hard at Alice as he said so. 

Alice looked at the jury-box, and saw that, in her haste, 
she had put the Lizard in head downwards, and the 
poor little thing was waving its tail about in a melan- 
choly way, being quite unable to move. She soon got 
it out again, and put it right; “not that it signifies much,” 
she said to herself; “I should think it would be quite as 
much use in the trial one way up as the other.” 

As soon as the jury had a little recovered from the 
shock of being upset, and their slates and pencils had 
been found and handed back to them, they set to work 
very diligently to write out a history of the accident, all 
except the Lizard, who seemed too much overcome to do 
anything but sit with its mouth open, gazing up into the 
roof of the court. 

“What do you know about this business?” the King 
said to Alice. 

“Nothing,” said Alice. 

[170] 


Alice s Evidence. 


“Nothing whatever ?” persisted the King. 

“Nothing whatever,” said Alice. 

“That’s very important,” the King said, turning to 
the jury. They were just beginning to write this down 
on their slates, when the White Rabbit interrupted : “Un- 
important, your Majesty means, of course,” he said, in 
a very respectful tone, but frowning and making faces 
at him as he spoke. 

“£/«important, of course, I meant,” the King hastily 
said, and went on to himself in an undertone, “impor- 
tant — unimportant — unimportant — important — ” as if 
he were trying which word sounded best. 

Some of the jury wrote it down “important,” and some 
“unimportant.” Alice could see this, as she was near 
enough to look over their slates; “but it doesn’t matter a 
bit,” she thought to herself. 

At this moment the King, who had been for some time 
busily writing in his note-book, called out, “Silence!” 
and read out from his book, “Rule Forty-two. All per- 
sons more than a mile high to leave the court.” 

[I7i] 


Alices Evidence. 


Everybody looked at Alice. 

“I’m not a mile high,” said Alice. 

"You are,” said the King. 

"Nearly two miles high,” added the Queen. 

Well, I shan’t go, at any rate,” said Alice: “besides, 
that’s not a regular rule: you invented it just now.” 

“It’s the oldest rule in the book,” said the King. 

“Then it ought to be Number One,” said Alice. 

The King turned pale, and shut his note-book hastily. 
“Consider your verdict,” he said to the jury, in a low 
trembling voice. 

There’s more evidence to come yet, please your Maj- 
esty,” said the White Rabbit, jumping up in a great 
hurry: “this paper has just been picked up.” 

“What’s in it?” said the Queen. 

“I haven’t opened it yet,” said the White Rabbit; “but 
it seems to be a letter, written by the prisoner to— to some 
body.” 

“It must have been that,” said the King, “unless it was 
written to nobody, which isn’t usual, you know.” 

[172] 


Alices Evidence. 


“Who is it directed to?” said one of the jurymen. 

“It isn’t directed at all,” said the White Rabbit: “in 
fact, there’s nothing written on the outside He un- 
folded the paper as he spoke, and added, “It isn’t a letter, 
after all : it’s a set of verses.” 

“Are they in the prisoner’s handwriting?” asked an- 
other of the jurymen. 

“No, they’re not,” said the White Rabbit, “and that’s 
the queerest thing about it.” (The jury all looked 
puzzled.) 

“He must have imitated somebody else’s hand,” said 
the King. (The jury all brightened up again.) 

“Please your Majesty,” said the Knave, “I didn’t write 
it, and they can’t prove that I did: there’s no name signed 
at the end.” 

“If you didn’t sign it,” said the King, “that only makes 
the matter worse. Y ou must have meant some mischief, 
or else you’d have signed your name like an honest man.” 

There was a general clapping of hands at this : it was 
the first really clever thing the King had said that day. 

[ 173 ] 


Alices Evidence. 


“That proves his guilt, of course,” said the Queen: 
“so off with — 

“It doesn’t prove anything of the sort!” said Alice. 
“Why you don’t even know what they’re about!” 

“Read them,” said the King. 

The White Rabbit put on his spectacles. “Where 
shall I begin, please your Majesty?” he asked. 

Begin at the beginning,” the King said, very gravely, 
“and go on till you come to the end: then stop.” 

There was dead silence in the court, whilst the White 
Rabbit read out these verses : — 

“ They told me you had been to her. 

And mentioned me to him: 

She gave me a good character. 

But said I could not swim. 

He sent them word I had not gone 
(We know it to be true ) : 

If she should push the matter on, 

W hat would become of you t 

[ 174 ] 


Alice s Evidence . 


m 


I gave her one, they gave him two, 

Y ou gave us three or more; 

T hey all returned from him to you 
Though they were mine before. 

If I or she should chance to be 
Involved in this affair, 

He trusts to you to set them free. 

Exactly as we were. 

My notion was that you had been 
( Before she had this fit) 

An obstacle that came between 
Him, and ourselves, and it. 

Don’t let him know she liked them best. 

For this must ever be 

A secret, kept from all the rest. 

Between yourself and me.” 

“That’s the most important piece of evidence we’ve 
heard yet,” said the King rubbing his hands; “so now let 
the jury — ” 


[ 175 ] 


Alice s Evidence. 


“If any one of them can explain it,” said Alice (she 
had grown so large in the last few minutes that she wasn’t 
a bit afraid of interrupting him), “I’ll give him sixpence. 
I don’t believe there’s an atom of meaning in it.” 

The jury all wrote down, on their slates, “She doesn’t 
believe there’s an atom of meaning in it,” but none of 
them attempted to explain the paper. 

“If there’s no meaning in it,” said the King, “that 
saves a world of trouble, you know, as we needn’t try 
to find any. And yet I don’t know,” he went on, spread- 
ing out the verses on his knee, and looking at them with 
one eye; “I seem to see some meaning in them, after all. 
‘ — said I could not swim — •’ you can’t swim, can you?” 
he added, turning to the Knave. 

The Knave shook his head sadly. “Do I look like 
it?” he said. (Which he certainly did not, being made 
entirely of cardboard.) 

“All right, so far,” said the King; and he went on 
muttering over the verses to himself: “ ‘We know it to 
be true’ — that’s the jury, of course — ‘If she should push 
[176] 


Alice’s Evidence. 


the matter on’ — that must be the Queen — ‘What would 
become of you?’— What, indeed!— 7 gave her one, they 
gave him two— why, that must be what he did with the 
tarts, you know — ” 

But it goes on ‘ they all returned from him to you / ” 
said Alice. 

Why, there they are!” said the King triumphantly, 
pointing to the tarts on the table. “Nothing can be 
clearer than that. Then again—’ 'before she has this fit ’ 
— you never had fits, my dear, I think?” he said to the 
Queen. 

“Never !” said the Queen, furiously throwing an ink- 
stand at the Lizard as she spoke. (The unfortunate 
little Bill had left off writing on his slate with one finger, 
as he found it made no mark; but he now hastily began 
again, using the ink, that was trickling down his face, 
as long as it lasted.) 

“Then the words don’t fit you,” said the King looking 
round the court with a smile. There was a dead silence. 

‘It’s a pun!” the King added in an angry tone, and 
[ 177 ] 


Alice s Evidence. 


everybody laughed. “Let the jury consider their ver- 
dict,” the King said, for about the twentieth time that day. 

“No, no!” said the Queen. “Sentence first — verdict 
afterwards.” 

“Stuff and nonsense!” said Alice loudly. “The idea 
of having the sentence first!” 

“Hold your tongue!” said the Queen, turning purple. 

“I won’t!” said Alice. 

“Off with her head!” the Queen shouted at the top of 
her voice. Nobody moved. 

“Who cares for you?” said Alice (she had grown to 
her full size by this time) . “You’re nothing but a pack 
of cards!” 

At this the whole pack rose up into the air, and came 
flying down upon her; she gave a little scream, half of 
fright and half of anger, and tried to beat them off, and 
found herself lying on the bank, with her head in the lap 
of her sister, who was gently brushing away some dead 
leaves that had fluttered down from the trees upon her 
face. 



mmmmm 




KmmMhI 


■ 


; r ; J 
lilt 

;:w U 




©C1K1C9700 








* ... 

















































































. 

t 

9 









































































‘ 















Alice s Evidence. 

“Wake up, Alice dear!” said her sister. “Why what 
a long sleep you’ve had!” 

“Oh, I’ve had such a curious dream!” said Alice. 
And she told her sister, as well as she could remember 
them, all these strange Adventures of hers that you have 
just been reading about ; and, when she had finished, her 
sister kissed her, and said, “It was a curious dream, dear, 
certainly ; but now run in to your tea : it’s getting late.” 
So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she ran, as 
well she might, what a wonderful dream it had been. 

But her sister sat still just as she left her, leaning 
her head on her hand, watching the setting sun, and 
thinking of little Alice and all her wonderful Adven- 
tures, till she too began dreaming after a fashion, and 
this was her dream : — 

First, she dreamed about little Alice herself: once 
again the tiny hands were clasped upon her knee, and 
the bright eager eyes were looking up into hers — she 
could hear the very tones of her voice, and see that 
queer little toss of her head to keep back the wandering 
[ 179 ] 




Alice s Evidence. 

hair that would always get into her eyes — and still as 
she listened, or seemed to listen, the whole place around 
her became alive with the strange creatures of her little 
sister’s dream. 

The long grass rustled at her feet as the White Rabbit 
hurried by — the frightened Mouse splashed his way 
through the neighboring pool — she could hear the'rattle 
of the teacups as the March Hare and his friends shared 
their never-ending meal, and the shrill voice of the Queen 
ordering off her unfortunate guests to execution — once 
more the pig-baby was sneezing on the Duchess’s knee, 
while plates and dishes crashed around it — once more 
the shriek of the Gryphon, the squeaking of the Lizard’s 
slate-pencil, and the choking of the suppressed guinea- 
pigs, filled the air, mixed up with the distant sob of the 
miserable Mock Turtle. 

So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed her- 
self in Wonderland though she knew she had but to 
open them again, and all would be changed to dull real- 
ity — the grass would be only rustling in the wind, and 
[180] 


Alice s Evidence. 


the pool rippling to the waving of the reeds — the rat- 
tling teacups would change to tinkling sheep-bells, and 
the Queen’s shrill cries to the voice of the shepherd-boy 
— and the sneeze of the baby, the shriek of the Gryphon, 
and all the other queer noises would change (she knew) 
to the confused clamor of the busy farmyard — while the 
lowing of the cattle in the distance would take the place 
of the Mock Turtle’s heavy sobs. 

Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sis- 
ter of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown 
woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper 
years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood; and 
how she would gather about her other little children, and 
make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange 
tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of 
long ago ; and how she would feel with all their simple 
sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, re- 
membering her own child-life, and the happy summer 
days. 



8 38 * 


* 

* 










'OO' 

-L »i,i‘ s «* s .. f e- '»»•’/ 

** 0 , ^ V % N S » 

A * 


&;' x° \ A * 

r i / , a 


A 





, * , y ^ , % -y A 0 c . 

< * 3 - ° >\ - . , S 

•- *- ■ ^ 

V 80 


<1 /> 7 ///VC7A\M° w A y t/> 

•* ^ -,W; ^ ■• 

> ‘"'''/,,il, '°“ k V' c°* c , w 

fO V* > A * A ^ 

■>•„ a - JEm^ \ +a v = 

^ ®* ' 

9* 

o ^ . 

* * M * 


»r 9 / ca 

? *>: ^V". \ > 

« &&CktrWA >? , xP *\' t,. .. ^\ - 

: / \ •?#; 4 





0^ *. v * 0 1 


0 * X 


^ ■■" v > v ; ' s ;; , /'''> 

<& .' A v A v 'v .* *i§S&\ *<. s 

^ ** . s!M • ^ «* i i t A ■- : % <? - 

x ./% °-;w/ 

J o it x ^ A ^ . s . , „_. 

v. A o n c » 4 * /O* o ^ * 8 k ' 'C<< 

A C * * *<2 C» V N -» ^ -A 

* ^ 


* A 

-* : v * „° *w 

*y* n°°x. $ -u 

r (b . '■ * ' x ^ v 

v> s s V/* 

^ ’r?' <V* ^ <» 

» ^ ^ 

2 > * 



. ^ ^ vwy 

a 0 <* y 0 » X ^ 

vS^ 



^ ^ ) CL 

.%*•<"• / .'*«, % 

s s : '^^> x » 



L V ^ 


^ * , \V 

■% ^ 
rP y y 

^ A 

'V 

/ » c A 

° * -*b 

v ^ ^ 0> 

a\ ^ ^ 

A o J y 

\ h^L. 1/1 

■ JL ^k y 

_ r'_n / iF >r 



- > 

i ' , V N vL*' y v v ■- <* <-w 0 

^ *> w* ^ »y n 

* 1 » A \V s * * / 9 * 0 of 

V ^ s ^ >v ^ \ 0 

f>. K &tt4 n '<*x. * *\ a ^ r 6 




C /' 

„i> % *U. 


o 

^ . V> w <?’ ^ 

\ . ^ * 


'V-*‘S.*’ M ° , 0 ^ 

'^ *, ^ / *Wa\ ^ 

T 5 «o 




^ -v 




.' a L . % y 

>° ° t * * i 1 * \ X ’ s 

■ \y ^ 1 * 0 r c- V- N s * 

■>t. /y * vV 1 ^ 

V -T .^; / : 'J\. /; ; ° ' S '-P <& ° 

2 %■ 

: A y % ° 

‘ y 0 , 


* • I 


vA' ^ 0 N c <■ o.. 

x°<=<. ^ 

0 C' \ r --: A' * «.' 

»*.,% **•’* o x 

♦ ^ 



r\ v ’ ^ ^ \' 

S. y” 

* f All',;/' - ^ V c ^ 


y o« ^ /\ O 7 / / S s ^0 

A \ n N r -/> 7 <V * s “Nk . i d V> 

C° ‘ * O . r 0 v ^ ^ ^ 

.1 o o ^r<Nfv ^ O f» v . V -f ^ 

Kp aN - - v ' ' ,<%, 2 * JP(\ / ^ + "Kt 




x° ^ 

^ o * 

^ <0' 


A|; : 

. .\ ? r- •- ;- V v 


^ v0- V- 

y % <a n ‘ 

T' «a 

* ,vV V ^ - ’ 

'o, X-^^y #NC V^**' H- 
r ° L ' - 

■ / ^ V 

o cr 





^ \ A 

• ^ 'P. aA c 

■^. AN S. 

^ ; ■ f> - ^ 

0 o ^■■ 



'I o » 'J, • rt I.vys X^ »" " V - 

\v L-e- ' ^ 

o N 0 ’ rt ^y' ^ () °^ ' * 9 \^ V s , , r ^ 3 x 0 ° t * 0 * 8 , 

c '- v -* ^ jP >Wv c i 

^ /-'J) C rj' 

A * r\ xv^Cvv/ / fc xP K 


% / 


V- 

< r» 



c ^ 08 

> - 


y V -.' 

y 


* aV 



,0 o 


* 4 Vj ^ 

° ^ y v 

o 

<* * v U. X ' J -A O' ^ . 

o ^ / s s <C' <r y o © x ^ o 

N c ♦ cr y 1 * * <p A 1 ^ c 0 N 0 « 7 b 

. _ ^ .,'^a y v ^ # \L:>/y.' ' .* ^ vy c t\^S> v^iLL ^ ,y * -x V 

<•■ A ^ <• oo' 


^Ai r v V 15 

•L- ^ 



■>' V 

oo 


« XA. <* ^ V) * /■( .WfW- „l •; 1 a • *Y n \^. ••• ^ LI 

* :/-•• * 4 r/C . ,; - iU- ' i c’ v0 O. , */ ^--K? * J . 

l^CcaS' * <LV fp y * x0 ^ i. ^ClA/^ * a :> 

% v'V'"v' , /*“ , > , .'-A v x %-”' 


kV ■%. 


X .V 

s s *U , <* y 

0 > y 8 « ^ 



r/ C^ 


^ y «y 

^ o H 0 V 4 


Y * 0 





* A#VV V 

A* . I . <\, V 0 ♦ X * A 

.tV * 1 * « '<f> .s\ V , o 





«**- "y V y.V 

N c.’^ A 0 

% °o o 0 ' O* 

it v v 



v S' 


i 1 V 




C' V' x ^‘ - V ' 

% * ■ « '* \* s .* r 


<. < * * / C I * « ^ u 

^ 4-^-.' ' £ © \0c> >. * 4 . * Wrn 

. <fcjr. \ v ^ -J--- y/fjf W ^ o> * WH] 

y i/ •> rw c>. ^ s oj y 

^ •> M 0 ’ YC ® > * o , A * tV <£► * •> 

<y * ' °* o v v s \ > 

4 K<^ C* A A, * <*' ,Y> * * .£► 

r* <0 AW S^w/n O t/>_ W X C3 i=3»: fcr_ ^ 


*\V </> 

* <V # 

^ ✓ 


v> 

7 n . 'fc .\ 

* 0 * ^ A c 0 N C , ^ 

t> * _JMS~ * ^ 








* > 


V 


A 


y vy 

s» $ %. 


r \ 

& -V 


P/ ,.„ y .., a 0 '- % * 

A A ,-, - \ ^ V v y ^ .9 * v * 0 a c* 

- - .V, » ;-*•• • ^ .y ^ ^ 

A x o /i !,-M. ^ a*. A ♦ ccQv^g 3 ■ 

III yy 


%<$ 


o 




v\ 


1 8 ♦ -<p 

% % A v , 

#“ : *- v : ^ 

= X° °y. 

>» 


^ 0 ^ W 


** / 'N^- .V V 

<L ** / s A .6 
n c ^ / 4 s 


9 / 


* . . t* \^ 

V y 


i «T V ^rU * 

\ s' 

rj^ y 


s » ^ / 


<» ^ VJ » 

^ 4 ^ 

t r c#v* ^ 
\ x -^* ^ 
lV 


// > 


<;■ 0 

" <§> <& 


X 




© y ^ > 

/% ^ <s[y / IVJW x \ ^ -au. / 

■»'’a ° 0 y'-^-'V y 

y . y » ./y v s > 

^ ■ • y y ■ * 


A 


•>*., * w . 

. ^ A tD ^ y s S A 

A X C 0 N v ♦ 

■■ * ^ y o o" 

^ •>* x 

. o o * 


® A </* 

* # y 


■y 


^ ^ 


\0 

y v*' '<»>- 


. '' A 1 


^ v 5 ^ y X y-f. 

‘ ♦ .' ' ' T '" /' 4 . . ,"V» ,to »*'/ ’ . V ».'.’*' y 

N ' aV r' 5) ^ > v 

*>y ^ (vTv'V' {V ° \\* * 

\V 

- s ? '<■■ v % 

v ' .o' 

P V ' v- --p 


^ ^ A 

y ,x . ^ / 

^ % y 

,> * Kf, t ■$ 
t 0 ^ 








^ y 

v' *>' 


O 


0 a \ 


0 


* y A 

^ A 


o N c Jf ^ o 


S .A 


A y - 

< . J 0 » K * <\ ' 't 7** ^s x 

A n N t ^ 4 /^ ‘ * S 


' ’ 8 “ ^ A c 

<Tt , 




.0 


''A 1 ’" 4 '/.,'*., - c > 

A*- V *y 

%jaW v- yy 











* ^ ^ » 


S A 

3 ^f. 


'f ^ * \ ' 

f 4» « "V* 

^ V<* v , < 

I ° ^ * 

z 


>. * a y -^i,^ s a 

A a °a *, °o * y 4 « i1 '* 

A ^ " Si.. ^ ^ Mtol/S/Z 2, -p 

® 


A *Cc* o 

A- - 


V 1 





a* ,y 

I^V 


CL 

O ^ o 



^p, ,v » 

,a - ^ > ° v 

';' . 5 \° ^ -/* ^ 
x • k ^ y~ 

♦9KB’/’ v# .\^.y’ A v 
J>' +\ °'\ V> s 

« 'br. A ^ i{\ C ' ;• A r ' <y X V * 

yx z 


^ 4 **% pW * oV 

’V' /( ^ sS y° ,11^ <o y °'^ 

y ^ o° * 

V 


V 


0 o 






X 


S * * 7 




l . , y % -w^ * y y ■ _ 

' ■ 0 y>. ‘ y ’ ' r - : y So ; : ' ' .;/ .'■., < y/-‘ y S: ‘ * 

s v , * .* s ■> . ° v^ 1 , a y 






I s ^ 

*4 

o* ^0 ^ 

v a ' * '^zvjy# * w 

’*.o° • \^y,.., 

\ » s 


- ° ’ y y. 

■ O' * ’ * « / c 






^ o x 0 o x , ^5 

i O 

'I N 0 ° A© O, * , 

XV sS *■ <4? S>i ,I - 







